The Complicated Aftermath
by Vamps-with-Wings
Summary: Secrets are revealed. People begin deceiving. Entire beings are threatened. No matter what happens in life, the aftermath usually leads to something more complicated than the original encounters themselves. -Sequel to The Hostile Encounters.
1. Acceptance

**Authors Note: You're reading these words because you've already read The Hostile Encounters and want to read more on that particular universe. If you haven't read THE and are still reading these words- WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING CRAZY? Don't go getting ahead of yourself now. Nothing in this will make any sense otherwise, so just go on back and read the first story. **

**Now that anyone reading to this point is well informed on what this is all about, WELCOME. I missed you terribly during our separation! But your rainbow-ish scent is very familiar, so I'm sure we'll continue to get along just fine.**

**(I have no idea what I'm saying at this point, haha. I blame being tired.)**

**Uhm, aaanyway. I don't have much else to say. I'm sure you'll be able to pick up what's going on after the first few chapters, so I won't try to explain everything. Go on ahead and enjoy the first chapter of this much anticipated (mostly on my part) sequel to THE (hehehehe. That still gets me EVERY time!)**

**Chapter One:**

_**Acceptance**_

_The wind whipped by painfully fast as I ran, flinging my hair into my face with each step that I took. No amount of stinging from the haywire locks could stop me though. I just kept moving, pushing through the overwhelming burning in my chest. Each breath I took lodged in my throat, morphing into lumps that relinquished what felt like no air whatsoever. Despite this I didn't give in to my body's screams for rest. I couldn't afford to even waste a second. Something as seemingly insignificant as a pause could risk _everything_._

_The pavement beneath my feet stretched on in every direction as far as I could see; maybe forever. I had no way of knowing. There was nothing else in my mind but the instinct to run. Towards something? Away? I'd be the wrong person to ask. I felt so small, like a tiny dot under the raging sun that hovered over my head; nothing but a player in someone else's game . . . _

_But hadn't it always been this way? For as long as I could remember my life had been centered around everybody but myself. I was treated like a pawn, or a matinee doll; just waiting for the puppeteer to make my next move._

_Just to be left with nothing in the end. Always nothing._

_And just like that I came to a halt, dropping to my knees. Everything inside and out of me burned. I felt like I had been dipped in acid, then left to writhe in agony. My skin blistered and itched, veins spreading across the surface like fragmented cracks in a mirror. Horror struck me as a fire erupted in my chest, forcing me to a fetal position. The scenery around me blurred, sputtering like bad reception of a television. Images raced around me, swirling in a hectic tandem._

_Was I dying? Was this what it felt like to die? Was my life really flashing before my eyes?_

_"Max. Max. Max."_

_The chant seemed to gurgle just within hearing distance, like a low rumble. It grew louder and louder as the word -my name- progressed._

"Max! Max! Max!"

_The sound of it reached its peak, like a wave growing in size just before rolling onto the shore. I only had time to take one gasping breath before the noise crashed all around me, registering like a sonic boom to my sensitive ears._

_"_Max_!"_

_With a flurry of movement feathers exploded all around me, enveloping me in a warm, comforting cocoon of downy softness. I could feel them attached to me, like an extra limb. The appendages were . . . wings. My wings._

_I was just reaching a trembling finger out to touch them when the picture before me splintered, shaking incessantly. My vision blurred, tilting this way and that. A spidery web of cracks seemed to dance into sight, making it hard to discern anythi-_

"MAX!"

I gasped, shooting straight up. Not my best move, considering how low the ceiling was in that particular place. My head slammed into the slope of the roof, resounding painfully in my skull. I slumped back into my previously occupied desk chair, cradling my aching head in my hand as I muttered a quick profanity under my breath.

From her stance at my side, Ella burst into a wild fit of giggles, bent over at the waist as soon as she caught sight of my contemptuous glare. Her dark, glossy hair fell like a sheet into her face, hiding the smooth, tan surface of her features. She looked so much like her mother, my Aunt Valencia, it was almost uncanny.

"What do you want?" I grumbled, coming to my feet. I swayed slightly for a moment, a sudden rush flooding my mind. I shook the dizzy feeling away, putting my hands on my hips as I narrowed my eyes at my younger cousin.

"Mom sent me up to make sure you were ready," she explained, managing to swallow her hysterics. She then gestured to my appearance, which was decidedly un-ready. "Obviously, it was within good reason, considering you're not."

"Ready for what?" I asked in confusion. I was still a bit groggy from my nap. Either that or the knock to my head gave me more brain damage than I had anticipated.

"The meeting," Ella prodded, raising a dark eyebrow in surprise at my forgetfulness.

"The meeting . . .?" I grimaced slightly in embarrassment. Obviously this was something I should know.

"With the Children's Services agent that's assigned to Angel and Gazzy."

My mood immediately took a turn for the serious, as I dropped my hands back to my sides. _Of course_, I murmured to myself. I ticked off the dates mentally, realizing that today was, in fact, the day. The day that could change everything.

_For the better or for the worse_, I reminded myself. There was no use getting my hopes up, after all. Social Services would either see that we were fit enough to take care of my two younger siblings, or they wouldn't. I was praying for the former.

"You should probably get dressed and everything. Mom said you guys were leaving in twenty minutes. You have to pick up Aunt Rebecca from the center."

'The center' being the rehab facility my mom had to attend for her drug addiction. The addiction that had us in this position in the first place. It was her fault just as much as it was mine. She couldn't cope with her problems so she curled into herself, abandoning us to the harshness of reality. Then me; for not winning that fight and losing them in the first place.

I shuddered at the cruel memory of it; their faces as they were ripped away from me, from the only mother figure they had ever known. From the one who broke her promise to always keep them safe . . . Sometimes I felt so sick with myself I couldn't even look in a mirror without turning away in disgust. It seemed like a disease -a poison- to be stuck in this skin, so laden with scars inside and out.

I lived with what I had though, on a day to day basis. That's the kind of world I had learned to toughen through.

My life had changed a lot though; so much it was astounding. In some pretty bad ways, if you were blinded by only my separation from Angel and Gazzy. It had also taken a turn for the better as well.

After Ella left and I was hurrying around to get ready, I thought of all the things I could be thankful for now . . .

One: I had twenty thousand dollars at my disposal (If you're furrowing your brows in confusion at this, please go back and read the previous installment. That should clear up any questions.), and with that money we were able to move out of the, to put it quite blatantly, shit hole that was our 'home'.

Now we lived in a much . . . friendlier area, in a nice brownstone that wasn't the size of a tin can (which is an improvement any day). It was a bit of a tight squeeze, what with Aunt Valencia and Ella living with us, but I was okay with that. They were a major help, which brings me to . . .

Two: My aunt Valencia and her daughter, Ella, had flown from Arizona to help out. I had never met either of them before that, so them being around took some getting used to. I wasn't exactly the most trusting person, but I was able to loosen my guard as soon as I took a bite of one of Aunt Valencia's chocolate chip cookies. If a heaven existed, it was those cookies. _Trust me_. It also helped that she was an all around cool person as it was, and Ella was only a few years younger than me, so we got along pretty well.

Three: Mom was getting the help she desperately needed. I didn't know how long it would take me to fully accept her back into my life. Maybe not ever. But she was trying, that much I could see. She was really, really making an effort to pick up the pieces of her fragmented life. I just wasn't sure if that was good enough or not. After everything she put me through . . . Well, let's just say some things can never be mended.

Four: . . . Okay, so maybe -possibly- a certain tall, dark, brooding, incredibly handsome (let's not kid ourselves), silent boy had something to do with it as well. But let's not go into that just now.

With that being said, I twisted the last piece of my hair into place, smoothing it out as I gazed into the mirror. The girl staring back at me didn't look like your average seventeen, soon to be eighteen, year old. Her chocolate brown eyes were dark and reflective, a shield concealing the true turmoil she had experienced in her short lifetime.

I knew I would always be this way. No matter how much better off things were. Nothing could erase the past. Nothing could make me forget what I had gone through; the measures I had gone to to ensure my siblings safety and well-being.

The blows that colored my life were shades of black and blue. They would never go away. I had the scars to prove my existence was once not so peaceful, and would likely not stay this way at all.

I would always be a little more grown up than the others my age. I would always seem a little more subdued. I would always appear a little more passionate and a little more solemn. I would always feel like the weight of the world had settled on my shoulders and mine alone. I would always have gone through a little more than most people I know.

Acceptance of that is easier said than done.

**- }{ -**

Aunt Valencia was in the kitchen when I made my way down the stairs. In the other room I could hear the television blasting MTV, and I knew it was occupied by Ella, and most likely Nudge. They had become inseparable as soon as Ella moved here. They had latched onto one another immediately, and there was no stopping them after that.

"All set?" Aunt Valencia inquired upon my entrance. She shuffled the papers she had been glancing at into her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. I nodded, giving her a tight smile. I could tell by the way she approached, gripping my shoulder in a comforting gesture, that she sensed how nervous I was. It felt like a million individual butterflies were floating around in the pit of my stomach.

This meeting could change _everything_.

"You're looking awfully professional," she remarked as we stepped onto the landing outside the front door. A slow wind whispered past, raising a tendril of dark blond hair that had escaped from its hold.

"You too," I replied lamely, not in the mood to make jokes. Instead I hooked a quivering finger around the edge of my shirt (or blouse, if you wanted to get technical), and hopped down the steps.

When we were situated inside Aunt Valencia's car she turned to me before starting the engine, placing her hand over mine. My teeth tugged at my bottom lip as I faced her, my expression languid and calm; the exact opposite of how I was feeling inside.

"It's going to be okay, Max. You know that right? Every thing's going to be okay," she insisted, giving my palm another pat before she swiveled back around to face the road. As the tires slid out onto the smooth pavement, I had one last fleeting thought.

_I wish I believed you._

**Authors Note: BOOM. How about that for a relatively boring first chapter? Hopefully you didn't find it too repulsive. Because that's really all I care about. YOU. Yeah, yoooou. Right there. Looking at the computer. It's you! I want YOUR opinion. Just you, you, you, you, you.**

**So you should, you know, review. Please? (:**

**P.S. Have you ever liked an FF author so much (for any fandom) that you kind of feel special when they reply to your reviews? Because I've never really had that feeling, and it seems as if maybe I should at least at one point. But maybe that only makes sense to me. Most likely.**

**Alright. So don't forget to REVIEW review ReViEw rEvIeW ! Deal? (:**


	2. Interest

**Authors Note: Yew guyz are supa' KEWL! (: **

**I posted the first chapter, then went to bed right after that. When I got up the next morning . . . I had sixty five emails. Awhh yeah! I was pretty excited . . . pretty excited. So thanks a ton for taking the time to read it, and put it on alerts/favorites and stuffff. Also extra kewl points for you if you reviewed. Those are much appreciated (much much much).**

**And alright, I know I said it was boring, but that didn't mean you all had to go: "YEAH! IT WAS TOTALLY BORING AND HORRIBLE. YOU SUCK. GO DIE IN A HOLE AND NEVER COME BACK (because you're dead..and you can't come back to life, ya know?)" . . . Hahahah. Nawww. I'm 'jk-ing' with you guys! ;) None of you did that. I just made that up. I know it was quite boring. Hopefully you like this one better.**

**Yeah, so I think that's it. Thanks again!**

**Chapter Two:**

_**Interest**_

"If you'll please wait here, someone will be with you shortly," the secretary at the front desk droned, the very pitch of her voice betraying her boredom. You didn't even have to see the way her hazel colored eyes drooped, or the slow, languid blinks she took; that lasted longer than necessary, to know. Maybe they didn't get a lot of action in these packed offices?

"Thank you," Aunt Valencia said politely, her teeth flashing in the dim light of the waiting area. There were a few lamps on, but the most illumination the room got was from the tall, though grimy, windows. They filtered in a soft, muted golden glow that sliced through the dark, highlighting the dust that swirled in the air; which was stuffy and warm. So much so that the back of my collar was beginning to stick to my neck.

We filed over to the cluster of chairs in the corner, circled around a coffee table that was so chipped and worn, you could guess it had seen better days. My mom carefully chose a seat across from me, wise to keep her distance. She knew my animosity towards the whole situation. She knew it was partially her fault.

Aunt Valencia did her best to make small talk between us, but I was obsolete in my sullen silence. My mind was a tangled mess of 'what if's'. There were too many possible scenarios in which this could go horribly wrong. Everything was riding on this one meeting. I didn't want to talk about something as insignificant and trifle as the weather for goodness sake.

"Max, honey, you're going to bite right through your lip if you keep worrying on it like that." The low, musical sound of my mother's voice reached through my hectic thoughts and yanked me back to reality in the only way a mother could.

I stared at her blankly, taking in her subdued look. I could see the fear lingering beneath the surface though, bubbling dangerously. She was scared too. Scared she was going to have to pay for her mistakes, which she rightfully should. Just not in this way. Not punishing me, too. I had done everything I could to raise Angel and Gazzy right. Nothing was going to ruin that. Not if I had anything to say about it.

They didn't call me Maximum for nothing.

Or rather, they hadn't _called _me Maximum for nothing. My time in the nasty business of street fighting was long over. That, along with gymnastics, was something I didn't want to return to. Too many painful memories revolved around them, like ghosts locked to my past. _Jared _. . .

Thinking his name stung, and I immediately felt an overwhelming surge of sadness wash through me. God, I missed him so much. Even after all this time, I couldn't get over his death . . . what he had done to himself. It was unfathomable to me.

For a short period of time I had hated him with every fiber of my being. I know he had lost Sarah and Ian, but he still had me, right? Why wasn't I good enough for him? Why wasn't I important enough to him? Why did he have to kill himself, and leave me all alone? Why, why, _WHY_?

Death was not an answer. Death could not solve what he had left behind.

Eventually I had come to terms with his decision though. It didn't make the yearning in my chest go away, but it did help me move on from the sorrow of it. Plus, I had been rather busy around that time. The full schedule had helped me keep my mind off of him.

With that final thought I shifted my gaze from my mom, to the floor. I couldn't stand to look into her depthless, solemn eyes any longer. She was always so . . . quiet and observative. A lot like Fang, when I thought about it.

_And speak of the devil_, I thought as the cell phone in my pocket started to vibrate. I carefully slid it out, pressing a button so that the screen flashed to life beneath my fingertips. Nimbly clicking away I opened the text message I had received, squinting to read the tiny print.

**Roof. Tonight at six. Be there.**

No further elaboration; just short, sweet and to the point. That was Nicholas King for you. Always the romantic gentlemen. Pshaw! But really, he did have his moments . . . just not . . . lately, I guess.

I quickly shuffled the thought to the back of my mind. Now was definitely not the time to be focused on Fang and his weird behavior. _So _not the time. The future of my family was at stake, after all. Worrying about my boyfriend was going to have to wait.

Without replying I replaced the phone in it's original place, folding my shaking hands in my lap. Taking a deep breath I reminded myself to be cool, calm and collected. I could be nervous all I wanted, they just didn't need to know it. Right now appearances were important. I had to seem like a capable almost-adult. Aunt Valencia had to appear like a trustworthy guardian. Mom . . . well, Mom had to be everything she never was to those two children.

"Mrs. Carter will see you now," the same bored, slightly nasally voice reached my ears, as the secretary pointed a lazy finger towards the hallway.

I sucked in another discreet deep breath as I stood, filing in behind Mom with Aunt Valencia at the head, standing tall and strong. She was a force to be reckoned with, that woman was. Once Fang had said she reminded him of me. That was crazy though. I knew how to take care of myself sure, but Aunt Val was truly something else. Wistfully, I wished not for the first time that she had been my mother instead of Rebecca. Things would have been so much easier.

A few feet into the corridor, there was a door set ajar. Inside the clicking of what was probably a computer could be discerned, and the faint rustling of papers. I hesitated at the mouth of the tiny room for a moment, a tickling sense of claustrophobia clawing at me. I shook it off though, swallowing as I stepped completely into the office. Mom and Aunt Val had already taken the two seats situated in front of the desk, so I stood awkwardly behind them, intertwining my fingers so that they didn't hang limply at my sides.

All the while dread continued to eat away at the pit of my stomach.

"Hello," the woman, Mrs. Carter, greeted us warmly; her smile bright and seemingly sincere. She was probably in her mid-forties, judging by the wrinkles around her eyes and the light strips of gray running like liquid silver through her hair. This was the person who would be deciding the fate of my family? Somehow, I had expected someone a little less . . . soft. But maybe that was just my fighter instinct kicking in; automatically assuming my opponent was going to look tough and macho.

And I always beat those opponents. _Always_. Who was to say I couldn't win this battle as well? Maximum- Max; whoever I was. I didn't take too kindly to losing. It didn't happen often. Why would today be any different? For the first time, I realized that we could do this.

We just needed this woman's approval.

"I hope we're not bothering you in the middle of something," Mom expressed with a slight frown, exuding politeness. It took everything within me to keep my jaw screwed in place. I had no idea she could act so well.

_Maybe she's not acting. Maybe she really is better_, a small voice nibbled at my consciousness, but I shoved it aside. You didn't abuse drugs for so long and then become immediately cured in only a few months . . . Yet here she was; her shoulders squared and calm, no longer shaking uncontrollably like she used to. Her voice was stronger, less like a wilted flower and more soft, filled with a firmness you didn't question. She had lost the crazed, glassy look in her eyes.

So yes, maybe on the outside she seemed healed. The wounds on the inside were what I didn't believe.

"Of course not. I was just trying to clear up a few things," Mrs. Carter responded, seeming pleased. There was, no matter how much I doubted it, an obvious improvement in my mother. This could work in our favor.

"We'll try to get out of your way as soon as possible," Mom intoned, her lips stretching up at the corners in a smile. I fought to keep a neutral expression. I had never seen her act so . . . normal.

"Yes, well. I supposed we have a few things to talk about then," Mrs. Carter stated, clapping her hands together. She reached into a drawer we couldn't see from our vantage point, pulling out two thin files. Across the top were Angel and Gazzy's names. My heart stuttered in my chest at the sight of them.

Aunt Valencia stepped up to the plate then, leaning forward to rest her palms on the desk. Her gaze was steady and clear, a no-nonsense air about her that made me proud to call her my relative. She wasn't anything fancy, like a lawyer. She was a vet. But if anybody could persuade Mrs. Carter to see the light in our favor, it was her.

"My name is Dr. Valencia Martinez. I moved to the city with my daughter, all the way from Arizona, a few months ago. Very shortly after the children were taken into your custody, actually. I had received a call from my sister, the one I hadn't spoken to in years. She asked me to come. She asked me to help her pick up the pieces. I agreed without hesitation."

Mrs. Carter appeared rapt at attention, listening calmly to Aunt Val's story.

"Rebecca made a mistake. A _huge _mistake, that cost her everything. There's no denying that. I've seen her progress though. She's been rigorously following the regimen for her addiction, and taking the rehab very seriously. You can see for yourself the woman before you." Here she gestured to my placid mother, who nodded in agreement.

"On top of that," she continued, "my niece has taken care of those children for practically their entire lives, while Rebecca has not. She has proved herself more than capable of raising them. She has gone to extreme measures to ensure their safety. She'll be eighteen in a little more than a month, and can legally take responsibility for them as well. We're more than fit to continue raising these children."

Mrs. Carter stared thoughtfully between the three of us, her audience holding their breaths to hear her deliver her next line, wondering what it could be.

"There are still a few problems," she finally uttered, clearing her throat. My shoulders sagged. No. No, no, no. Not problems. There are _no _problems.

"I fail to see them," Aunt Valencia admitted.

"Well, for one; there's always the possibility of a relapse, no matter how well a patient is doing. In this case, we have to take that into account."

"But like I said, Max will be eightee-"

"And that's all fine and well, but is a youthful, beautiful young woman really going to want to have to spend all her time and hard earned money on two kids that aren't even her own? Priorities change."

"Don't talk about them like they're a burden," I blurted before I could stop myself, speaking for the first time. "I love Angel and Gazzy. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for them. They're the only 'priority' I've ever known. That will _never _change. Those two kids you're talking about? Yeah, they're the only ones I've ever had. I won't give up on them."

Mrs. Carter looked at me for the longest time then, as if really seeing me. There was something in her eyes I couldn't discern; something I didn't know the origin of. The possibility that it could be bad just as it could be good frightened me more than anything.

Eventually she turned away, resuming her speech.

"There's also the financial issue."

"We have money," Aunt Val said dismissively. "I have a stable job, and Max has plenty of cash at her disposal, which you should know. We sent the file over beforehand."

Mrs. Carter pressed her lips together, looking as if she was grinding her teeth.

"The main thing out of all of this though, is simply whether or not you're right for these children. We have to keep their best interests in mind," she explained, brushing an imaginary strand of hair behind her ear, like she needed something to occupy her fingers.

I scoffed, a spark of anger beginning to burn. "Their best interest? Their real family is their best interest," I insisted.

"That's not always true. Especially when taking into account that another family has expressed interest in adopting them."

My breath left me in a whoosh, and it felt like I had been punched repeatedly in the gut. Someone else was trying to adopt them? Someone else was trying to adopt them, and the agency was _considering it_?

"What makes them better for _my _children than us?" Mom asked tightly, and I could see how upset and angry she was becoming.

"They have a lot of money. They're a slightly older couple yes, but they also have a lot of free time. They'd be able to give them the attention they need. Maybe _you _should consider the fact that they'd be more fitting for the children. Maybe instead of thinking of what it could do to you, you could put their best interests first. Just as we have."

Adrenaline rushed through me, hot and energizing. I needed to get out of here; needed to run far, far away. Needed to hit something. Anything. I needed the open air and I needed . . . wings. I needed wings like in my bizarre dream from earlier that day.

I needed them so that I could fly away and never come back.

**Authors Note: What? You didn't think they were just going to fork 'em over, did you? That wouldn't any fun, now would it? ;) **

**Why do I keep asking all these questions? **

**Uhm, ahem. Anyway . . . I had something to say. But I forgot. DANG. Alright, well I guess that's it then. Don't forget to review . . . because as you know, that's very important. VERY important.**

**SO DO IT! (or I will eat your pony. Grrr [unless of course you don't have a pony, in which case .. you're saved this time;)]**

**P.S. Some of you answered my question from last chapter, saying if your favorite author on the site or someone who wrote one of your favorite stories replied you felt special. SoOoOoooo. Who's your favorite author on the site, and what's your favorite story on the site? (!) **


	3. Forget

**Authors Note: I was going to update sooner, but I had a friend over one night, and then another friend over right after that. So I was busy, busy, busy. I hope I am forgiven . . .**

**Just kidding. You don't have a choice regardless. ;)**

**Uhm, so yeah. Thanks for the reviews. Reviews in general are super-fantastic-awesome-amazing things. So yeah, thaaaaaanks!**

**Chapter Three:**

_**Forget**_

"This is bullshit!" I exploded once we were safely out on the sidewalk, and the faded brown door to the agency was closed tightly behind us. "Complete and utter fu-"

"_Max_!" Mom hissed sharply, shooting me a look.

I rolled my eyes, glaring right back. "Oh please. Cry me a river why don't you, and stop trying to tell me what to do." Okay, so maybe I was being unnecessarily harsh. My mood was the blackest hue of night, though. It was almost a tangible, roiling mass.

Because we weren't getting Angel and Gazzy back today. Maybe not ever.

"Max, don't talk to your mother that way," Aunt Valencia said tiredly, making her way to the car. Her eyes stayed downcast as she unlocked the door, prepared to slide in. My quick remark stopped her, though.

"Why?" I demanded frostily, not in the state of mind to think rationally and just bite my tongue and move on. "Because she deserves any better? News flash, she doesn't. This is all her fault anyway!"

"Don't you think I know that?" Mom inquired quietly, looking lost and forlorn. "Don't you think I have to live with the guilt of that every day? Don't you think I know I deserve every bit of what I get? I'm trying to make things better, Max. You're the only one who's stopping that from happening."

I glowered murderously at her, my dark brown eyes narrowed to slits of cold iron. How dare she try to turn this on me. How dare she try to make it seem like I was the bad guy here, when all I had ever done was everything she hadn't.

"Sorry, but it doesn't work that way. Do you think I survived all these years by giving everyone who let me down a second chance? If I did that, I would dead. Do you understand? _Dead_. I've gone to such lengths that you would never imagine. Stop trying to guilt trip me, because it's not going to work. I don't pity you in the slightest. Karma's a bi-"

"ENOUGH!"

My eyes widened in surprise as I swiveled my head to face Aunt Valencia. There was a deadly sort of calmness about her that made me flush in embarrassment. Her eyes, which were quite similar to mine, were trained directly on me, as she curled her hands into fists so tight they turned her skin white.

"We know, Max. We know the hardships you've gone through. And if anyone deserves to be happy, it's you. I would give everything I have to change the past, but that's not possible. There's one thing I know for a fact though, and that's that we will never get through this if this family is divided any more than it already has been. You need to learn to forgive, sweetie- or else this is going nowhere." Aunt Val's voice was low and steady, as if the very tone she spoke in could lead me to the light. It was harder than that, though. So much harder.

"What . . . What if I _can't_?" I asked seriously, putting my head in my hands and wearily rubbing my eyes. She made it seem so simple, but _saying _my mother was forgiven and her _actually _being forgiven were two very different things.

"You have to try. We all have to try. We're going to learn a lot of lessons in the coming future, and we're going to be better off because of it. Believing in that will bring us all one step closer to closure."

Slowly I approached the car, tugging on the handle. With precise movements I lowered myself into the back seat, slamming the door shut behind me. Even though I knew they couldn't hear me, in a muffled voice I said: "Let's just go home."

The rest of the car ride was weighed down by a heavy silence, making the very air inside the vehicle difficult to breathe. This time, Aunt Val didn't try to make small talk. It seemed she had nothing else to say after her little speech. Instead we all stared out of our individual windows, lost in our own thoughts. I wondered briefly what Mom was thinking; if she agreed with Aunt Valencia. Then I reminded myself that I didn't care . . .

But was that really the truth anymore? I didn't know. I was quickly coming to learn that I didn't know _any_thing anymore.

When we arrived back home I was the first one out of the car, with the other two lingering slowly behind me. I burst through the front door, anticipating an ambush. Just as I suspected, Ella and Nudge pounced as soon as I stepped foot into the little hallway leading to the rest of the house.

"What happened?" Ella demanded, eyes wide and fierce. Her jaw was set in anxious anticipation. She had never even met Angel and Gazzy, but you could tell how much she truly cared about them, just from what she had heard.

"What did they say? Is everything going to be okay? Are Angel and Gazzy coming back soon? I miss them so much. Please, tell us they're coming back. I couldn't bear it if they weren't. I-" Nudge rambled at lightening speed, her lips blurring as she spoke.

I opened my mouth to respond, shaking my head slightly. Then Aunt Val and Mom entered behind me, and I shoved roughly past the barricade the two teens had created in front of me. Let them explain. They could do it with less vulgar language than I would.

As I swept by I managed to catch a glimpse of the clock hanging on the wall. Quarter to six. Cursing slightly under my breath I hustled up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I really didn't want to meet Fang dressed like I was going to court. He would probably just laugh at me.

Practically flying into mine and Ella's shared room I shed my itching blouse and the torturous cotton skirt I had forced myself into. Rifling through a drawer I managed to find a clean pair of jeans, sliding my long, tanned legs into them with relief. Then I just tossed on a random t-shirt and donned my jacket. It was relatively warm outside now, but that didn't mean the temperature wouldn't drop with the coming night.

At last I slipped my feet into my ratty pair of tennis shoes, hopping on one foot to manage this feat as I tipped this way and that into the hallway. I almost crashed headfirst down the stairs, but I managed to catch ahold of the sturdy banister in the nick of time. Voices from the living room floated up to me, and I knew Aunt Val and Mom were taking turns explaining to the girls what had happened.

I didn't want to interrupt, but I was running short on time, and it would take me at least twenty minutes to walk to where I was meeting Fang. Taking a deep breath I poked my head into the room, my dark blond hair swinging like a curtain into my face.

"Can I borrow the-" I began, trying for sweetness, but probably failing miserably.

"Here," Aunt Val said, tossing the keys to me with a grin before I even finished. I flashed her a grateful smile, catching the ring around my pointer finger with ease. I gave them all a quick wave goodbye before heading out the door, the keys jingling in my hand.

Previously it would have been a major hazard for me to be out on the road, but I had somehow managed to pass my driving test. Not without a little help from Fang, but I had my license and that was all that mattered. And Aunt Val didn't mind lending out her car for my use from time to time, so it was a convenient thing to have.

Like now, for instance. I didn't have to walk _every_where, like I used to.

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as I pulled to a halt at a stop sign, glancing either direction. There were no cars in sight, so I carefully maneuvered the car around the corner. Just as I did so a figure came leaping from the alleyway, running straight into my path. The brakes squealed as I slammed my foot onto the pedal, fishtailing as I swerved to miss the _obviously _insane person.

Squinting through the windowshield I tried to see who it was, as my breathing evened out and my heart resumed its regular pattern, no longer pumping painfully in my chest. Whoever it was was already running away though, never so much as glancing over their shoulder. By their build I could tell it was a male; tall with broad shoulders. A flicker of familiarity rustled in my mind, at the honey blond hair now flipping this way and that as he sprinted away.

_Dylan_?

Shaking my head profusely I shifted the car back into gear, twisting the steering wheel so that the tires straightened out. Glancing in the rearview mirror as I pulled away, I could see the inky black skid marks I had left behind, a marker of this odd occurrence.

Odd being a major understatement.

I continued taking deep breaths, letting the incident slide away. Especially because I knew Fang could read me like an open book. He would automatically sense something was wrong, and I'm pretty sure showing up completely breathless and freaked would be a specific indicator towards that. Besides, I had enough to worry about, what with this new situation we were in concerning Angel and Gazzy.

At that moment I pulled up to the familiar curb, easing in behind Fang's onyx, obviously expensive, car. When I got out I examined the crumbling, not so foreign building before me. The place I had called home for much of my life.

And I know what you're thinking. Something along the lines of: 'Why are you meeting Fang _here _of all places? What's so special about it? Wouldn't it make more sense to, you know, stay away from all the bad memories it produced?'

Yes. It would. But the roof . . . well, the roof was a different story entirely.

I thought about the things Fang had told me there, as I climbed the fire escape to the top. He had shared his story, bared it all in front of me, despite the judgements I might have had. He had told me he 'liked' me. All of that had enough meaning for us to keep coming back.

"Hey there stranger," I said softly, as I caught sight of his black-clad back. He was standing, as usual, with his hands in his pockets, facing the opposite way. When he heard me speak though, he shifted around, a corner of his mouth quirking up at the sight of me.

He didn't speak as I approached, which was typical behavior for him. He just watched me with hooded, obsidian colored eyes; stripping me down to the core with just his strong, steady stare.

"And stranger isn't an exaggeration. You've been pretty busy lately." Bitterness flooded through me at the thought, though my tone stayed mercifully neutral. He had always been there for me in the past, but right now, when I needed him the most, he was never around. I didn't know why; didn't know if it was something I had done. All I knew was that he barely called or came around, and he acted suspiciously indifferent most of the time. His behavior was so . . . weird.

"I know," he said with a sigh, shifting his gaze to the horizon beside us, unable to meet my eyes. "I'm sorry about that."

I shrugged, trying not to frown. Maybe it wasn't his fault. Maybe he really was just wrapped up in something else, possibly having to do with his parents. It wouldn't come as a surprise to me. They'd do anything for him to spend less time with me. I wasn't exactly their first choice for their perfect little son's girlfriend. More like a last resort in their opinion.

Without hesitating Fang stepped forward, enveloping me in an embrace. His arms tightened around my shoulders, as my head rested in the crook of his neck. I relished in the warm, tingly feeling our proximity gave me. After all this time, he never failed to give me butterflies.

"So how'd it go today?" he murmured next to my ear, kissing my temple softly. His lips lingered there as my shoulders sagged with the memory. Guilt flourished within me, like a poison at the thought of our failure.

"Not good," I admitted, pressing closer to him. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, like that could keep out the pain of this cruel, harsh reality. A reality in which my siblings could possibly belong to someone else other than myself.

Fang breathed into my hair, the warmth of it tickling the back of my neck. He rested his chin there, saying: "Everything will be okay."

"How do you know?" I mumbled, feeling smaller than I had in a long, long time. Ever since the brief high I had been on after winning second place at National's, I had felt so weak and useless. I couldn't do anything to change their minds. I just had to wait it out, and waiting wasn't something I was good at. I was more of an action kind of girl.

"Because I know everything, as I've told you before," Fang replied, and I could sense his smirk.

Deftly I pulled back, punching his shoulder. He mock winced, winking at my narrowed gaze. I couldn't help but snort after that, rolling my eyes. What a cocky, arrogant young man. I voiced these thoughts.

"You're so full of yourself," I joked in an admonishing tone.

"Oh, I am?" he inquired, cocking a dark eyebrow at me. His black hair swept into his eyes at the motion, and on instinct he shook it out of the way.

"Yeah, you are," I insisted, putting my hands on my hips. This easy, effortless banter was what I was used to when I was with him. It was so much more comfortable than what had been transpiring lately.

"Well maybe if you didn't worship the very ground I walked on, I wouldn't think so highly of myself," he proposed, propping his hands on my waist and tugging me forward as I threw my head back and laughed at his preposterous claim.

Then his calloused palm was resting on my cheek, tilting my head towards him. I closed my eyes just as his lips brushed against mine, kissing me with the ever-present smirk he always wore. When things like that happened, it was hard to imagine my life had any complications at all.

He was the only one capable of making me forget, and I didn't want to lose that.

**Authors Note: HAHAHAHAH- I don't know why I'm laughing. I'm actually not in a very good mood at all right now, which is weird considering how good this day has gone. I think I'm just tired. NAP TIME FOR OLIVIA! Hahahahah. That was also a joke. I'd never be able to take a nap this late. It'd be pointless.**

**REVIEEEW . . . bew, bew . . . bew. Uh. Yeah. (bew)**

**P.S. Heading a different direction: Who's your favorite musician(s)? You'll get a mention in my AN next chapter if you like some of the same bands/artists I do! Yaaay for my total control over what's being said. I still love all of you, even if you listen to terrible music. I'll only judge you in my head, don't worry. ;)**


	4. Glimpse

**Authors Note: Sorry for the wait. I was legitimately super busy. I had zero time to update, considering I have to read over the chapter and everything before I publish it.**

**Anywayzzz: as promised, here are the people that enjoy some of the same bands/musicians as me: Overcome, VivaLaKatee, JealousMindsThinkAlike, desperatelyobvious, jahfreenalam, and ijusttookyourcookie. Please note that that doesn't mean I like all the bands/musicians you listed. A lot of them I cringed at, not gonna lie. But that's just me.**

**Chapter Four:**

_**Glimpse**_

_The sky is utter perfection. It's so deep and blue you feel like you can swim in it, like an endless sea of atmosphere. Wind caresses you from every angle, whispering across your skin as it breathes its secrets to you. You feel so at peace and calm where you are, that no thought as to how you got to such a place occurs to you._

_Instead you simply float along as normal, fingertips stretched out to touch the blossoming clouds surrounding you. Eventually your lazy, languid thoughts pick up speed, and you are able to sense the strange pressure on your back. Curious you reach behind you, the pads of your fingers searching . . . _

_You are momentarily shocked at the sensation of feathers, as your hand comes in contact with them. Startled as such, you momentarily dip downwards, causing your pulse to leap from your throat in the form of a gasp. Regaining your balance is no easy feat, but you manage. All the while you know something isn't right. Not right at all._

_Things begin to click into place; things you should have noticed long before. One: humans didn't just naturally find themselves hovering in midair. This brilliant recollection leads you to your next thought. Two: humans, at least the normal kind, didn't have feathers sprouting from their backsides either._

_Panic sweeps through you, and suddenly all peacefulness flees your system, being replaced by an overwhelming sense of fear and stress. More anxious than ever you swivel your head to see over you shoulder, straining your neck so that it protests painfully._

_To your horror, right between your shoulder blades, feathers are protruding from your skin, arching out in the shape of a crescent moon._

_In the shape of wings._

_With that thought you are sent spiralling towards the ground, your newest appendages locked and frozen behind you. The air is rushing past you so quickly it stings, akin to the sensation of a million tiny bees penetrating your skin. The sound of the wind hurts your ears so much you begin to acquire a pounding headache. All the while the ground is approaching you, a mixture of brown and gray. _

_As you approach your impending doom, you realize the blend of colors is really a bunch of jagged, slicing rocks. They knife into the air, sharpened to a point perfect for skewering; say- a person falling from the sky._

_The peril you are feeling is heightened ten-fold as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, dreadful anticipation of what is to come settling in resignation in the pit of your stomach._

I gasped, my eyes flying open in the light of morning. Squinting I rolled to the side, burying my face in my pillow to block out the illumination of the room. My heart was racing, and a cool sweat trickled down the back of my neck.

Already I'd forgotten what I was dreaming about, that seemed to frighten me as so. Raising my head I glanced at the clock, figuring it would come to me later. The blocky, red letters spelled out it's time to get up for school.

_Great_.

Just when I'm thinking this the alarm went off, shrill and whining. It's piercing sound made my head ache, and I hurriedly slapped my palm against the snooze button, glad to be rid of the noise. From across the room the bundle that is Ella moaned and shifted, like a bear coming out of hibernation.

"Morning Sunshine," I called out cheerfully, though I was just as tired. Let's just say Ella wasn't much of a morning person.

"Please tell me this is a joke and it's actually Saturday," she pleaded, only the tip of her dark head visible beneath her cocoon of blankets.

"Sorry kiddo. Monday would be the accurate date," I informed her, rolling to my feet. I stretched my arms about my head, yawning. My toes curled into the soft carpet, slightly cold now that they weren't wrapped in my comforter.

"Lies," she groaned, burrowing deeper into her mattress. A moment later though she was across the room, grumbling, headed for the bathroom. Ells didn't mind school, really. She liked being with the new friends she had made since she moved here and such. It was getting the ball rolling that was the hard part.

I laughed at her reluctance, shaking my head. Sometimes she seemed more like me than was possible. I had to wonder if it was an acquired feature, from just the short time she's known me, or if it stretched back to her days in Arizona.

Not in the mood to worry about my appearance, as if I ever was, I slapped my hair back into a ponytail. When I was fully dressed I grabbed my bookbag from its place beside the tiny desk in our room, heading towards the kitchen.

Mom was there, her back turned to me as she hummed to herself at the stove. I didn't recognize the tune, but she seemed to be enjoying herself as she flipped the pancake she was cooking high into the air with a precision I vaguely remembered from my early childhood. Slowly she was returning to that woman.

Was I ready to accept that yet?

She turned just then, catching sight of me lingering in the doorway. With a small smile she motioned for me to enter, indicating the high stack of pancakes she had on a plate already. Both her and Aunt Val had learned that I usually ate _a lot_.

I dropped my bag beside the counter, grabbing the plate and the bottle of maple syrup as I went. After I was done smothering them in the sickly sweet liquid I froze, my fork halfway to my mouth. A small trail of syrup was oozing between the utensil and the plate, and I was cautious to not let it drip on me.

Blinking I upturned my gaze to my mother, who was still busy with her cooking. Swallowing thickly I mumbled: "Thanks."

She looked over at me, eyebrows raised. "I'm sorry, did you say something?" I wasn't surprised she hadn't heard me; what with how quietly I had spoken and at such a great speed. Either that or she just wanted to hear me say it again

Sighing I cleared my throat, glaring down at the table as I repeated my thank you.

"No problem, honey," she replied, smiling brilliantly at me. Her eyes were shining with pleasure, her dark blond hair accenting this. _She's so pretty_. The thought startled me. But it was so true, her and Aunt Valencia both. They were beautiful women, there was no denying that. Ella was on her way to it as well, though she had plenty of years to morph into what I'm sure would be the spitting image of her mother. You could just tell.

"Ooh, pancakes!" Ella exclaimed from the doorway, her voice splintering the moment between my mother and I. For just a few seconds a link had been forged there, now broken by Ella's oblivious interruption. "So cool! Thanks Aunt Becca."

"Anytime," Mom responded, finally looking away from me. I dropped my gaze to my meal as well, which had grown chill during our exchange. I shoveled it away regardless, my stomach no longer growling.

Ella and I chatted easily over the breakfast, while Mom cleaned the dishes, occasionally piping in. We laughed and made jokes. Everything was . . . normal.

That is until Aunt Val burst through the door, a troubled expression on her face, mixed with somewhat relief.

"I just got off the phone with Mrs. Carter," she explained after we had all shown her mirrored, questioning looks. My eyes widened at the news, and I immediately came to my feet.

"What did she say?" I demanded, biting my lip.

"She said they've thought about it some more, and they might consider giving us custody of Angel and Gazzy after all," she said breathlessly, a huge smile lighting up her features. I wasn't ready to celebrate just quite yet, though.

"That's so great!" Ella gushed, hugging each of us individually. I continued staring at Aunt Valencia though, my brow furrowed.

"But what?" I inquired, crossing my arms over my chest. "There's an obvious 'but' at the end of that statement."

Her grin waned the tiniest bit, and she nodded with a sigh. "You're right. She said there was still a definite possibility that Angel and Gazzy could go to the other couple. As much as they want them to be with their real family, they have to keep the kids 'best interest' in mind."

"Screw their 'best interest'. We _are _their best interest. Why can't they see that?" I spat bitterly, loathing the shaky precipice we were stationed on, in which the favor could lean either way.

"I know, Max," Aunt Val said tenderly, gripping my hand in her own. "And they're going to soon learn that as well. We just have to have some faith. Mrs. Carter said they'd issue a formal inspection of the house and such sometime in the near future, as well as looking over financial files and the like. Things are going to work out."

"I really hope you're right," I said, my voice hard and my jaw squared. I could count on one hand the times things have gone my way in the past. That stat was keeping me back from believing this would work itself out.

Personal experience said as much.

"We should probably get going, or else we'll be late for school," Ella reminded me, as the silence since my last comment stretched on. I nodded stiffly, slinging my bag over my shoulder once more.

"Here, take the car today," Aunt Valencia offered, pointing to where the keys were laying on the counter.

"Are you sure?" I asked, hesitating. "Don't you have to work later?"

"Yes, but it's supposed to be nice today. I might as well get some fresh air and walk down to the clinic. Besides, you two will never make it to school on time with how late it is. Just take it and go. I won't be responsible for another tardy notice," she insisted, shooing us out the door.

I snatched up the keys as I passed, tossing them in my hand as we made our way to the curb. Once we were inside the car Ella asked if we could pick up Nudge, and I agreed. Her apartment was on the way, anyway.

As I drove Ella fiddled with the radio, singing along to the songs as she flicked through the stations, never staying on one for more than a few seconds. I was just about to remind her of the rule I had about music when I was driving, when a figure standing on the sidewalk ahead caught my attention.

I narrowed my eyes as we passed, trying to get a glimpse of their face. The build of the person was extremely familiar, and images of my near accident yesterday flashed in my mind. Just as we came close enough though, he turned, throwing his navy blue hood up around his head. Not before I caught the faintest glimpse of turquoise though.

"What are you looking at?" Ella asked in confusion, turning to follow my line of vision.

"Nothing," I muttered, shaking my head as the person disappeared around the corner.

"Do you know that guy or something?" she inquired, craning her neck to try to catch another glimpse of him. He was gone though.

"Of course not," I said with a shrug, turning down Nudge's street. She was already waiting on the doorstep, surprisingly enough. She jumped to her feet as we rolled to a stop in front of the steps, skipping down in true Nudge-esque style. She was blabbering her mouth off as soon as she opened the door.

For the most part I ignored her, leaving Ella to supply what little conversation a person could get in when it involved Nudge. We were about a block from the school when Ella suddenly interrupted Nudge's rant with a shout.

"Hey, isn't that the guy from before?" Ella exclaimed, pointing out the window. My gaze immediately snapped to where her finger led. Sure enough the same hooded figure was standing at the edge of the road. By that time though, he was already becoming a lone speck in the rearview mirror.

"Who is it? Is he like, someone you guys know? Or is he some sort of stalker? Ooh, that would just be SO creepy, don't you think? I-"

Ella cut her off before she could really launch into something. "Are you sure you don't know him, Max?"

"I have no idea," I replied offhandedly, though a certain sort of grimness was beginning to settle in the pit of my stomach, as little puzzle pieces clicked together. The hair . . . the eyes . . . the overall physical appearance.

Was Dylan back?

**Authors Note: Yeah. That's right. That was slightly a cliffhanger. Uhuh. I did it. I went there.**

**Thoughts? (:**

**P.S. Favorite . . . movies? Anybody?**


	5. Promise

**Authors Note: I'll have you all know that April seventh was, hands down, THE BEST DAY OF MY ENTIRE FREAKING LIFE AND AHHHHFOIECXNAYUXZUJ! I just can't get over it! :D :D :D Gahh. Sososo awesome! (:**

**Anyway, read on.**

**(This was supposed to be updated a few days ago . . . but then FF was being all wacky and I got busy with things again. My apologies :/)**

**Chapter Five:**

_**Promise**_

I'm sure you're all pretty confused at this point. _'Dylan? Was Dylan back? What are you talking about, he's always been there, right?'. _Well, not exactly. At least, not . . . lately. It's kind of complicated in a not . . . complicated way.

You see, after Jared's death, their parents decided that they needed a change of scenery. Their first son was dead, along with his wife and their only grandchild. It was really hard for them to cope, especially with the nature of their only remaining son, Dylan. There was nothing left to stop them from leaving New York City, which is exactly what they decided to do.

Dylan was already eighteen; a legal adult. They gave him the choice to either come with them or stay and try to tough it out on his own in the big city.

Jared's death had really sobered him up, though. They had never gotten along like brothers should, but I think in the end Dylan really did love him. He took Jared's suicide hard. That's why he didn't hesitate in packing his bags along with his parents. Last I heard they were living somewhere just outside of the city, in a suburb of New Jersey or something like that. The only reason I knew any of this is because their parents kept in contact with me. They knew how close Jared and I were.

That's why if Dylan really was back, and seemingly on his own since I hadn't gotten word of their return from his parents, it could spell trouble for all of us. Big time. My relationship with him as of now was shaky at best. There would always be a certain animosity between us. He had tried to kill me, after all. You just don't forget things like that. So yeah, towards the end he had played the good guy card.

That didn't mean I trusted him, or had any reason to really.

"See you later, Max!" Nudge called out as she began dragging Ella off to a group of their friends. She shot me a cheeky smile before turning away. I rolled my eyes, locking the car door behind me.

No matter what, my status in high school didn't change. That's why the students parted like the Red Sea as I forged through them, headed to the front doors. At first, after I had won the silver medal at National's, they had all tried to be buddy-buddy with me.

That didn't last very long, I assure you.

"Max! So good to see you," a familiar female gushed, rushing to fall into step beside me. I gritted my teeth, reminding myself that it wouldn't be good to punch a fellow classmate. Too much of a scene for my taste here. I tended to lean towards just blending during school. There were other, more important places I could stand out.

"Annabelle!" I exclaimed, mimicking her tone. "Get the hell away from me!"

She giggled, tossing a long piece of white-blond hair over her shoulder. Even as I picked up my pace to further discourage her following me, she continued to stay glued to my tail. "Oh Max, Max, Max. You are _too _funny! Such a comedian."

Why oh why was she so _stupid_?

"Seriously," I growled, glaring at her. "Get lost."

"That's so . . . cute. The way you try to act all tough and mad and stuff. Priceless! You'll have to teach me how sometime. Say this weekend? I was thinking maybe we could get together at the mall or something, and you could probably stay at my house. I can hear a slumber party calling," she said in a sing-song manner, clapping her hands together.

You know how I said everybody stopped trying to be buddy-buddy with me before? Yeah, well . . . Annabelle was the one exception to that. She was seriously delusional, as presented above. Not to mention _annoying_.

"I'd rather die in a hole," I stated seriously, staring straight ahead.

Once again she burst into laughter, laying her hand on my arm like she needed help standing. I came to a halt immediately, turning my icy glare on her fingers, which continued to stay curled around my arm. The seconds ticked by, and still she didn't move. I had just opened my mouth to snap at her when someone interrupted me.

"Hey Max," Fang greeted me, suddenly appearing from the shadows as per usual. I immediately shot him a look that said: '_Get her off of me before I kill someone_'. He smirked, receiving my message loud and clear.

"Hi Fang." Annabelle's attention immediately shifted from me to the dark boy standing before us, her voice going low and breathy.

Uhm. Ew.

Fang nodded in acknowledgment, but didn't say anything. This didn't seem to discourage Annabelle in the slightest, which wasn't very surprising. She was completely oblivious to just about everything, in case you hadn't taken notice yet.

"How are you today?" she asked, using the same tone as before. It sent chills up my spine, and I immediately made a totally aghast expression behind her back, making Fang smirk again.

"Good," he said offhandedly.

"I'm glad to hear it," she swooned, stepping closer to Fang.

And this is another prime example of why I don't like, nor wish to put up with, Annabelle Andrews. She acts like we're best friends, and tries to make slumber party plans with me . . . then goes and starts throwing herself at my boyfriend. Cool. Just . . . _cool_.

The nerve of some people.

Mercifully, we were then saved by the bell. Reluctantly, Annabelle said her goodbyes, not even sparing me a glance now that Fang was present. Instead she walked her fingers up Fang's arm, leaning in to whisper something in a voice too low for me to discern. I watched Fang's reaction carefully, but his blank exterior gave absolutely nothing away. I didn't know if that was good or bad.

She finally walked away though, a little too much shake in her hips than normal. She kept glancing over her shoulder, like she expected Fang to be watching her leave. His gaze never strayed from me though, much to my triumph.

When she rounded the corner I burst into laughter, as Fang smirked and shook his head at her antics.

"She's insane," I managed to say between guffaws, pressing my hand to my mouth to contain them.

"Thanks for rescuing me from that," Fang said distastefully, wiping at his arm like she had left a visible residue.

"You know you enjoyed it," I joked, bumping him with my shoulder as we made our way to class again. The hallway had mostly emptied out, so we were virtually alone besides the few kids that ran by.

"That's very true," he replied, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Ha ha. You're funny," I scoffed, glaring at him. The corner of his mouth quirked up at this, almost a smile. He slung an arm around my shoulder, pulling me to his chest. There was something forced about the action though, like he was only doing it because it was expected, not because he wanted to. The pressure of his stiff arm felt like more weight than I could manage at the moment.

More weight than I ever wanted it to feel.

**- }{ -**

"Iggy, do you fully comprehend how much I want to murder you in your sleep?" I growled, closing in on the tall, pale, blind boy. He cowered against the lockers, shielding his face with his hands. He knew who I was. He knew what I was capable of, even if I was slightly out of practice.

"It was an honest mistake," he insisted, now forcing his bookbag into the space between us, as if that would hold me back from ripping his head right off his neck.

"You mistakenly put a BOMB IN MY LOCKER?" I screeched, fisting the cloth of his t-shirt in my hands and wrestling him to the floor. I sat perched on his stomach, my clenched fist dangerously close to decking him in the eye. "I fail to see the mistake in that."

"I would never do that to you, Max! What kind of person do you take me for?" He gasped, mock-hurt.

"The exact kind of person that would do that," I hissed.

He thought this over for a moment then nodded, his strawberry blond hair flipping this way and that. "Yeah, you're probably right. That wasn't the best example."

"I'm going to kill you!" I shouted, just as I was pulled roughly to my feet from behind. I was immediately on high guard, twisting around with my arm cocked and ready to aim a punch, when I realized it was Fang who was holding me back. A Fang who looked like he was trying his best not to laugh.

"Hey now. Settle down children," he reprimanded us, still holding me by the waist. Smart move on his part. I was going to launch myself at Iggy the next opportunity I got. "Jeez. I leave you guys alone for two seconds, and you're already at each others throats."

"Look at me!" I yelled, gesturing to my body. "Look at what that imbecile did!"

Fang appraised my decidedly disheveled appearance, taking in the glitter now covering every inch of my front in stride. All because of Iggy, who thought it would be funny to put a bomb in my locker that would give me a sparkly shower.

I. Was. Going. To. Kill. Him.

"You have to admit it was funny," Iggy insisted from where he was propped up on his elbows, now lounging on the tile as if he did it everyday. Fang looked like he was dangerously close to agreeing. Damn him.

"Why me though?" I demanded, feeling the urge to stomp my foot like a child, though I refrained from doing so. "It would have been so much better had you done it to Fang!"

"Hey!" Fang said in warning. "I'm on your side here. Don't give him any ideas."

"Too late," I muttered sheepishly at the brilliant look on Iggy's face. He was now grinning from ear to ear, his cloudy blue eyes bright with a maniacal glint. Before we could stop him he was jumping to his feet, mumbling under his breath as he raced down the corridor and out of the school, no doubt headed to write down his next insane stunt.

Fang turned his dark glare on me, and I smiled weakly.

"On the bright side, there's a good chance he won't be bothering _me _for awhile," I suggested wanly. Fang didn't find it amusing. I didn't know why. _I _personally found the circumstances to be quite hilarious.

"I'm his ride home, so I have to go. If I don't come back, you'll know why," Fang muttered darkly, turning to leave. I grabbed his elbow to stop him though, tugging it so that he'd turn back around to face me.

"Let's test that theory. You want to hang out tonight? We can kick Ella out and watch movies or something," I proposed, grinning up at him.

"I . . ." he hesitated, his brow furrowing as his gaze shifted everywhere but at me. My smile faltered considerably. "I can't. I have other plans. Some other time, okay?"

I fought to keep a frown off my face, biting my lip so hard I thought I tasted blood. Why should I be surprised?

"Rain check. Got it," I mumbled, my eyes downcast.

Fang's hand caught my chin, gently raising it so that I had no choice but to look him in the eye. I did my best to hide my disappointment, as I stared into the emotionless rocks that were his eyes.

"I'm really sorry. We'll spend the entire weekend together, alright? I promise," he said softly, kissing me quickly before hurrying down the hall and out of sight, where Iggy could faintly be heard screaming his name, and something that sounded suspiciously like 'get your ass moving!'.

_I promise. I promise. I promise._

When had promising ever meant anything?

**Authors Note: I don't like this chapter. I dunno . . . it just seems . . . not good. Review please?**

**P.S. In honor of the best day of my life, have you met any muscians/bands you like? BECAUSE I DID AND I HUGGED ZACK AND IT WAS AMAZING AND AWESOME AND FANTASTIC AND THE ENTIRE NIGHT WAS JUST GREAT AND STUFF AND I COULD GO ON BUT I WON'T BECAUSE THEN YOU'LL GET MAD AT ME FOR WASTING YOUR TIME LIKE I AM RIGHT .. NOW NOW NOW NOW! **

**Whoops . . . heh heh heh. Review?**


	6. Mortification

**Authors Note: For those of you asking, the band I met was The Word Alive. They're not too big yet, so I don't know if many of you will have heard of them or anything. Suffice to say though, that I lovelovelove them. (:**

**Chapter Six:**

_**Mortification**_

The weekend came and went, and I heard not a single word from Fang. He basically avoided me all day Friday, and then dropped off the face of the earth Saturday and Sunday. Call me crazy, but Houston, I think we have a _problem_.

The worst part was I had no idea what to do about it. The most relationship experience I had came from my time with Dylan, which obviously didn't pan out too well considering he's _psychotic_, and Fang, who was the entire problem.

And who did I have to turn to in my time of need? Two giggling, just out of pre-teen stage girls. In other words: Nudge and Ella.

All this makes me realize I need more friends.

"So what's up?" Ella inquired, resting her head in her hands as she sprawled out on her stomach on her bed, ankles crossed. Her eyes were shining in the slightly dim overhead lighting, and her wavy hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Nudge was seated Indian style on the floor in front of her, watching me carefully like every move I made could explain the situation I was in.

"I . . . It's just . . . It's . . ." I mumbled, trailing off in mortification. Why was I, an almost eighteen year old, telling all my problems to two barely fifteen year old girls? (Okay, so technically Nudge was fifteen and Ella was sixteen, but you get my point.)

"Just spit it out already!" Nudge exclaimed. "It's not like it's going to kill you."

"It's . . ." I swallowed thickly. "It's Fang," I said hurriedly, closing my eyes so I wouldn't have to see their expressions. Eventually I cracked a lid open, taking in their reactions. Twin looks of concern were what I was met with.

"What about Fang?" Ella inquired, her brows furrowed.

"Well . . ." I rummaged around in my brain for a place to start. "He's just . . . He's been acting really weird lately. Like, really-_really _weird. He doesn't ever call, and obviously he's never around here anymore. And he promised we'd spend this weekend together, but I haven't even talked to him, and I . . . I just don't get it."

"Have you talked to him about it?" Ella asked, sharing a look with Nudge. A look that didn't appear too good. Especially since Nudge was now wringing her hands slightly, which she only did when she was anxious or nervous. Which meant that Fang's behavior was something to be anxious and/or nervous about.

Great. Just . . . _great_!

"Of course not. What am I supposed to say? I don't want him to think I'm too clingy or something. I don't need him around every second of every day, it's just . . . This whole thing with Angel and Gazzy has me really stressed, and it'd be kind of nice if he was there for me even just the tiniest bit. He always used to be . . . but things have changed. And I don't know how or really even when or why."

"Let's get this one thing straight, because I know you really well, and I can totally tell you've already started beating yourself up about this. Whatever he's doing, if he's really doing anything at all, is _not your fault_. Okay, Max? Boys are stupid. They generally don't grasp the concept of emotions that well, and we all know Fang is totally inept when it comes to those," Nudge ranted. "The most important thing you can do right now is talk to him about it. He's not going to think you're being clingy. He knows you Max, and if he hasn't already picked up on how upset you are, then obviously there's something major distracting him. Maybe he's just waiting for you to ask."

I mulled this over in my mind. She could be right. I mean, Fang was definitely not the one to outwardly exude his every sentiment. Possibly, something was going on in his life that was totally separate to mine, he just didn't know how to talk about it. It was my turn to take the initiative.

"Call him," Ella suggested, tossing me my phone. I hadn't even realized she had gotten up. "Call him right now."

Biting my lip I dialed in his number, hesitantly holding the device to my ear. It rang once; twice, then there was a voice flooding into my ear . . . one that didn't belong to Fang.

"_You have been sent to an automated voicemail. Ple_-"

I hung up immediately, a mixture of anger and sadness melding together inside me. Or maybe Nudge was completely and irrevocably wrong about the entire situation. Maybe the way Fang was acting really had everything to do with me.

"What? What happened?" Nudge and Ella demanded at the same time. I glared down at my sheets, twisting them in my grip so tightly that my knuckles turned white.

"He sent me to voicemail," I muttered, refusing to allow tears to burn in my eyes.

_Because maybe_, I thought for the first time, _he didn't deserve them_.

**- }{ -**

My fingers drummed restlessly on my thighs, earning me a warning look from Ella, who was strapped into the seat beside me. I smirked at her, but stopped my incessant tapping. It was probably bugging everybody in the car at that point.

"Read me the address again," Aunt Val ordered from her spot at the wheel, squinting to read the numbers flashing by as we slowly drove down the street. Up ahead I could see a small sign announcing the Greenbury Home for Children. In other words, an orphanage.

"It's right there," I pointed out, leaning over Mom's shoulder in the passenger seat to indicate the tall building. She gave me a look similar to that of Ella's beforehand, and I could mentally hear her quip: 'If you're leaning up that far, how do you have a seat belt on?'

Mothers. _Sheesh_.

Aunt Valencia pulled smoothly up to the curb, just behind a rusted, red beast that looked like something out of an old '80's movie. The logo for the home was printed across the side in fading letters, having seen better days. They probably didn't have the budget to replace even _that_.

"I'm really excited to finally meet Angel and Gazzy," Ella said as we climbed out onto the crumbling sidewalk. Her hands were shaking and she shifted from foot to foot, jittery with nerves and excitement. I was feeling much the same way.

I hadn't seen my brother and sister since Jared's funeral, which seemed like forever ago in hindsight of what had happened since then. I missed them so much it physically hurt. I didn't know if they were doing okay; if they were being fed enough, or were being treated properly. All these things and more added up to a colossal worry that was constantly eating away at me.

This short visit we were mercifully given would hopefully appease some of those qualms.

Just ahead of me Aunt Val pounded on the door, using the large, ornate brass knocker. Scrabbling could be heard from the depths of the house, as we waited for someone to answer. As I stood on the top step, I took notice that Mom was hanging back from the rest of us, hovering uneasily behind Ella. To put it quite frankly, she looked like she was going to be sick.

I could only imagine why.

I had just opened my mouth to call out to her- though I had no idea what I was planning on saying, when the door creaked open. A woman who appeared only a little younger than Aunt Valencia stood on the other side, grinning broadly. There was a toddler of maybe two or three propped on her hip, gnawing at a stuffed dog. Behind her the sound of laughter and the crashing of toys could be heard. A scream rang out through the hubbub, and the woman winced apologetically while motioning us in.

"Sorry about that. Jeremy hasn't quite grasped the concept of sharing yet," she explained, with a slight southern twang to her voice that was obviously wearing off with her time spent in New York. At her side the child gurgled, before shouting "Hi!"

Ella giggled, saying something about how cute she was.

The woman agreed before saying: "I presume you're here to see Angel and Gazzy?"

"That would be correct," Aunt Val responded warmly. "If you just point us in the right direction we'll get out of your way in no time at all."

"Well, there's another couple meeting with them right now, but they should be leaving soon. If you just go right through there, you should be able to find them," she explained, pointing to an archway a little farther down the hall, where most of the noise seemed to be coming from.

Without further instruction I was moving past the others, hastily making my way forwards. Somebody else was meeting with them? I'd like to see the people that were trying to steal my family from me. I had a few choice words for them, after all.

When I burst into the wide, children-filled room though, my anger quickly dissipated and dissolved on the spot, being replaced with something else entirely. An emotion I couldn't name at all.

Kids of all ages were scattered around the room in various orders of disarray. The older ones seemed to be banded together in a corner, chatting amongst themselves and listening to IPods or MP3 players. Then those just below them were wreaking havoc on each other, running around and shouting. The youngest were grouped on the other side of the room, placed amidst a mixture of broken and chewed-on toys.

That's not what stopped me though.

At first it was the sight of two angelic, blond haired children sitting across from where I had entered. They looked healthy and clean, with bright smiles and even more luminous blue eyes.

Angel was laughing, grinning in the way only she could. Gazzy seemed a little more subdued, though his crooked smile was shining just as well as his younger sister's. What really made my breath lodge in my throat though, were the two people sitting with them.

Two people I would recognize anywhere.

Two people I never would have guessed.

Two people that could potentially ruin everything for me.

Because those two people were Fang's parents.

**Authors Note: You know, sometimes what are supposed to be surprise twists are RUINED when everybody already guesses what they are. BOO YOU SMART KIDS.**

**P.S. Do you get sunburnt a lot? And how bad is it when it happens? Because I am FRIED right now AND IT SUCKS. I've never been this burnt in my entire LIFE. (well, all fourteen years of it)**


	7. Problems

**Authors Note: Easter update! (as a sort of present to all you amazing people!). So, Happy Easter for those of you who celebrate it, and Happy Random Update Day for those who don't. I'm in a super mood today, and it really has nothing to do with the candy, because I'm really pushing for the "What Easter really means" thing.**

**So enjoy! (Btw: thanks for the reviews last chapter. It kicked up some feedback out of you all (: )**

**Chapter Seven:**

_**Problems**_

Everything that had led up to that point seemed to make so much more sense now, as all the little pieces fell into place. The totally rich couple that could possibly offer a better life for my brother and sister than we could? Mr. and Mrs. King themselves.

The betrayal of it stung more than I could have imagined.

I mean sure, they weren't my biggest fans. I was just a little too rough around the edges for their taste. My upbringing wasn't my fault though. Just because I wasn't as privileged as them, didn't mean I deserved any less respect. That had never mattered to them, however. From the first moment I had stepped into their outlandish, dignified home, they had hated me.

In their eyes I was stealing away their perfect little son. What they didn't know was lately, he had been tugging against that hold.

My concentration was momentarily broken, as a hand gripped my arm tightly. I swung my gaze around quickly, fists clenched. Now that Fang's parents weren't in my immediate sight, my head cleared slightly. I hadn't even realized to what degree my vision had begun to swim, as the cold fury I was experiencing consumed my every thought and made my blood boil.

"_Don't_," Aunt Val hissed warningly, her grasp stronger than I would have thought. It wasn't until then that I realized I was perched on my toes, arms hanging loosely at my sides like I was prepared to launch myself at the couple.

She had no idea though. Not the slightest bit.

"You don't understand," I insisted through gritted teeth, my eyes once again narrowing at the familiar people across from me.

Mrs. King was dressed as impeccably as ever, her dark gray ensemble highlighting her electric blue eyes, which were framed by her flowing, coal black hair. Both of her hands were clasped gently around one of Angel's, and she patted her small palm every few seconds as she talked with a fervor I recognized from the party she had hosted.

Mr. King seemed to be content with just listening, sitting motionlessly beside his wife. You didn't have to guess where Fang got his quiet nature, upon observing his father's overall behavior. Mr. King had a commanding sort of presence though, where Fang managed to blend into the shadows.

He wasn't _The Shadow_ for nothing.

"I understand the consequences confronting those two people could bring up, which is enough for any of us to be wary of such a thing," she said with much the same tone I had.

"But you don't understa-" I began again, trying to explain the situation. To her these were random strangers. I _knew _them though. I knew them a heck of a lot.

Enough to know that this didn't make any sense. Mr. and Mrs. King weren't exactly the type to one day up and decide to adopt one child, let along _two_. Besides, Mrs. King didn't seem very impressed with Gazzy the first time around in any case. Which led me to wonder: what had spurred this? Was it purely spite for me, or something else entirely?

"I don't have to understand, Max," she said tightly, not relishing her hold on me in the slightest. "I just have to keep you from doing something stupid, that could harm us all in the long run. You _will _regret approaching them when it comes down to it. Just let things pan out themselves. There's no need for you to intercept fate."

We continued staring down one another. I wasn't going to relent on this, and neither was she. We really were a lot alike in many ways. Stubborn as hell, that's for sure.

"Look, I think they're leaving now!" Ella interrupted our staring match hastily, stepping between the two of us like if our eyes were to meet any longer, the air hovering there would burst into flames.

She was right, in the end. Mr. King was now on his feet, holding a hand out to help his wife stand. They said their goodbyes to Angel and Gazzy, all big smiles and faux-cheer. It made me sick. Then they made their way in our direction, arm in arm. As they passed, I couldn't mistake the chilling look Aria King shot my way, the coldness in her icy blue irises withering in its intensity. That was all the acknowledgement I received though, as they breezed past our quartet.

I found myself holding my breath as they did so, the space suspended between us crackling with an unseen electricity that threatened to singe me if I moved even the slightest bit. Even after they were out of sight, I found it difficult to swallow; my throat feeling like it was lined with cotton. The pressure made me uncomfortable, and it took me a few moments to shake off the overwhelming feeling that came with lack of oxygen.

Afterwards, however, there wasn't a lot of time to spend agonizing over their involvement in the whole affair. Now that their intriguing visitors were gone, Angel and Gazzy had finally caught sight of us.

"MAX!" they shrieked in unison, twin looks of intense shock and pleasure on their faces, as their baby blue eyes bulged. Immediately I was engulfed in a mash of blond curls and awkward, jabbing limbs. I didn't mind when Gazzy's elbow found its way into the soft skin of my stomach, though. Nothing could ruin this moment.

I dropped to my knees, my fingers scrabbling and reaching to hold them to me with whatever purchase I could gain. Angel's skinny, wonderfully familiar arms were wound around my waist in an iron grip I was proud of. Gazzy was holding me around the shoulders, his spiky hair nestled in the crook of my neck. I couldn't mistake the wetness dripping down my collar, either. He was crying . . .

And so was I, I soon realized.

"We're a mess," I blubbered, sniffing once we had pulled slightly away from each other. I examined the two of them through a fractured and blurry vision, shrouded by the liquid brimming in my eyes. "We're a horribly pathetic, sobbing, dysfunctional _mess_."

"That's the best kind to be," Angel insisted, sounding so much older than her nine, soon to be ten, years. It broke my heart even more to see how much she had grown up in the few months we had been apart.

"Otherwise it'd be boring," Gazzy agreed, cracking a grin through the obvious redness surrounding his eyes. He would never admit to crying so easily. My brother was a trooper, that's for sure.

I managed a smile through the irritation in my own eyes and the thickness in my throat, feeling so much less empty now that we were reunited, even for this brief period of time. Drawing myself up I heaved a breath, trying to compose myself. It was a rarity for me to break down like this; and most of them had happened in the recent past.

"I miss you guys so much," I admitted, wiping a stray tear from the corner of my eye.

"We miss you too, Max," Angel replied, suddenly reaching out to grip my hand in her own. Her skin was velvety smooth and soft; achingly familiar. How many times had I held that hand before? How many times had I smoothed down those curls when she was sick or had woken up in the middle of the night from a bad dream? How many times had I dried those tears? How many times had I risked everything for the two children before me, just to have them ripped away?

It wasn't fair. At all. But the sad truth was, life wasn't fair. It never had been, and it would never cease to be that way. It was foolish of me to think at any point that I could change that.

"How is it here?" I inquired, finally getting down to the important things. The things I needed to know. "Do they treat you alright? Are you getting enough to eat? Have you-"

"It's not that bad. Really," Gazzy assured me, twisting the edge of his t-shirt in his hand as he spoke. The end was sightly frayed, but then again, we had never been able to afford anything more luxurious either.

"Are you sure?" I demanded intently. "Because I swear to God if they're mistreating you in any way I'll be sure to bust some heads and we'll break you guys out of here in a moments notice."

Angel laughed, the sound soothing to my deprived ears. Gazzy joined in, shaking his head. For that one infinite second in time we were at peace with each other; and everything seemed just . . . normal. Eventually though, everything came to an end.

"Max."

It was Aunt Valencia, speaking softly from behind. I started in surprise at the sound of her voice, forgetting momentarily that I wasn't the only one here to see Angel and Gazzy. Briefly pressing my lips together in a tight line I craned my neck around to see them, before I returned my gaze to my siblings.

"Guys, there are a few people you need to meet," I informed them, gesturing for the others to step forward. Aunt Val came up with ease, smiling warmly. Ella followed more slowly; hesitantly. There was a timid smile on her face, as she looked up through her long lashes shyly.

"This is our Aunt Valencia, and our cousin Ella. They moved from Arizona to come stay with us. Aunt Val's a vet, and Ella's a few years younger than me," I explained, watching their expressions carefully. Angel beamed . . . well, angelically. Gazzy smiled as well, though less enthusiastically due to his age and status as a macho-man. Of course.

"And I guess you already know who this is . . ." I trailed off slowly, indicating Mom, who was standing uneasily a few feet away, looking solemn.

In any other instance, their mirror gasps of surprise would be comical. I couldn't bring myself to laugh though, or even so much as smirk. There was something irrevocably serious about the situation, and I wasn't going to do anything to tamper with that. This was probably the only time they could remember seeing Mom even remotely coherent; not completely drugged or thrashing and screaming.

"Mommy?" Angel whispered, so low you could barely hear. I witnessed a tremble shiver through Mom's entire body at the term, her eyes glazing over with tears. Every visible part of her body was quaking now, like a paper thin leaf in the wind, but for an entirely different reason than drugs, or lack of.

"My baby Angel," she murmured, her eyes crinkling at the corners as a single tear dripped onto her cheek, weaving a glittering path down the expanse of her jaw.

And then they were hugging; so fiercely you'd think they'd combust. No space was left between them, as the picture perfect moment ran on. I was the only one who seemed to notice Gazzy standing stiffly in the same position he had been from the start, his face blank and devoid of emotion. His back was completely rigid, and he made no move to approach our mother. I could only imagine the thoughts ticking away in his mind.

Most likely images of the dark, festering hole she had trapped herself in for years. The look on her face as she screamed and pleaded for more. Always more. The rotten sheets twisted all around her sickly frame. The hollow look in her eyes that never seemed to go away. The shattered glass from another thrown object. The pain and suffering she had put us all through.

Things you couldn't forget . . . Things a nine year old may be able to forgive, but things a twelve year old would always hold against you.

"She's not a baby." His tone was dead and shockingly strong, poised like a knife above her. "Not anymore."

"Gazzy . . ." Mom said uselessly, staring at him over Angel's shoulder. The tremble in her voice seemed to come straight from her core, resonating in the sudden silence that blossomed in the room. Or maybe it was just in the bubble that was somehow surrounding us and no one else.

"You lost your chance," he intoned; repeating things I had thought and said so many times. Things that never lost their meaning, no matter how much better Mom's health improved . . . No matter how much she resembled the person she used to be.

The _mother _she used to be.

"I . . ." She didn't know what to say. She knew there weren't any words that could make this better. Gazzy was just old enough to possibly remember how things used to be. Nobody could take those memories from him. Nobody could make him forgive her.

With that he turned on his heel, leaving the room without a backwards glance. There was a palpable chill left in his wake, one that made me question the future of my family even if we _did _gain custody of the two of them.

Something told me that wouldn't be the end of our problems.

**Authors Note: Well, there's that to think about. Do me a favor and review? It could be your little Easter gift to ME (: Right, right? **

**P.S. VivaLaKatee, even though you hate me now, I am uber glad at least SOMEone knows The Word Alive. Their greatness should be known by everyone, really. (:**

**P.P.S What did everybody get for Easter (if they celebrate it, once again)? And I'm just going to tell you that one thing that kills me about holiday's now: They're hardly celebrated for their real purpose anymore. Easter, Christmas, Halloween, etc.. Kids growing up nowadays probably don't even realize what they really mean, you know? They just know they get stuff.**

**Makes me mad.**

**(Review! ?)**


	8. Gone

**Authors Note: I'm incredibly tired and I'm about to pass out right now . . . and it's only nine o'clock. Wow. Anyway, thanks for the reviews guys! (:**

**Chapter Eight:**

_**Gone**_

Suffice to say, the ride back home was an awkward one.

Aunt Valencia and Ella didn't seem to know what to say to ease the situation, which I was actually thankful for. It almost seemed like a crime to blow all that had transpired off now. And Mom . . . well, Mom was even more subdued and solemn than she had been from the start. Her skin had taken on that sickly pallor again, and the pain in her eyes was clearer than ever. I guess no matter what, she hadn't anticipated that sort of reaction from Gazzy. She probably thought I would be the toughest and last to forgive . . .

But maybe, just maybe, that wouldn't be me after all.

My brother had every right to be furious. Even if he _was _her son. I never allowed Angel to be there during her episodes. Never. All she could possibly discern from it were the noises, which were bad enough as it was. After awhile though, I couldn't do it all by myself. Gazzy had been forced to step up to the plate; something I regretted every day following that. He was truly scarred.

I found it odd that I was having mixed feelings about having someone actually on my side for this one. Shouldn't I be happy that Gazzy was in agreement with me? That he wasn't going to cave so easily for Mom's current appearance and just forget everything she had put us through?

Strangely enough, it just made me feel as sick as our mother looked.

"_Max_," Ella breathed without warning, reaching over to grip my wrist. I looked over at her in confusion, taking in her wide eyes and parted lips, as she stared at something over my shoulder.

"What? What is it?" I demanded, something inside me prickling at the startled mask she was wearing.

"Look," she mumbled under her breath, indicating the space behind me once more. I inclined my head in that direction just as we were pulling to a stop in front of the house. Aunt Valencia killed the engine as soon as we halted behind the familiar sleek, black vehicle there.

The cold fury I had experienced upon seeing Mr. and Mrs. King at the orphanage quickly bubbled up again, simmering so dangerously I almost broke a sweat. My jaw clenched painfully at the sight of Fang lounging on the front steps, his black attire standing out starkly in the daytime. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he stood upon my slow, trailing approach.

"Hey," he said softly when my shoes found their way to stand in front of him. I peered wordlessly at him, my teeth gritted so tightly I thought I might cause permanent damage. His greeting was met with no 'hello' of my own.

His brow furrowed the tiniest bit as I continued to say nothing. The others were just passing us on the sidewalk though, heading to the house. My explosion would have to be somewhere else; someplace they couldn't witness it. Without a thought after that I turned on my heel, stalking off down the pavement. Vaguely I heard Fang's almost silent footfalls drop into step behind me, as he tread quietly after me. No questions asked. Good for him.

I continued to lead him down the street, glaring straight ahead. Cars passed and doors could be heard opening and slamming shut, but none of it really registered to me. I was too angry; my fuming coloring my vision red. Everything happening to all those people -their lives- were completely separate to mine at the moment.

Eventually we reached the corner, an intersection of my street and the next. My feet followed that path, turning around the edge of the building without conscious thought from myself. Fortunately, the small stretch of road there dropped off at a dead end, which was completely barren and deserted.

Perfect.

With no further indication I rounded on the unsuspecting Fang, with precise and lightening fast movements I could only sum up to my time spent street fighting. Before he -or even I, really- knew it, his back was slammed into the rough, hard brick of the building. He was undeniably stronger than me, and probably could have escaped my grip fairly easily had he tried, but he seemed to sense that it was better for him if he just stayed put. That being done, my hands remained curled around the cloth of his shirt at his collar, my glowering face murderous and very close to his.

"Tell me you didn't know," I hissed through gritted teeth, blood boiling even more so than at the sight of his parents. That betrayal was slim in hindsight of what it would be if he knew what they were planning.

"Max, I know you're mad. I-"

"Tell. Me. You. Didn't. Know," I snapped again, enunciating every world carefully. A flicker of confusion raced across his face before it was gone, replaced by the same emotionless mask he always wore.

"Know what?" he demanded, dark brows furrowed so that the space between them puckered.

"About your parents," I spat, lips curling back in disgust at the image of them, trying to win Angel and Gazzy's hearts. A feat they were never going to achieve. Not if I had anything to say about it.

"What about my parents?" he asked uneasily, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Tell me you didn't know what they're trying to do," I insisted, a note of pleading entering my voice. I trusted him. Probably more than anybody else, even when he was acting so shady lately. If he had known . . . and he hadn't told me . . . I didn't know what I'd do.

"What are they trying to do?" he inquired, sounding the slightest bit exasperated now, at the way I was dodging around answers.

"Tell me you didn't know they're fighting us for the rights to the adoption of Angel and Gazzy!" I screamed in his face, unable to handle it any longer. My shoulders drooped, and my hands slowly slid from where they were holding him against the stone. I felt drained; like I could use a few days of sleep and then some.

"_What_?" He couldn't hide his shock on that one, even if he was Mr. Emotionless. The immense relief that rushed through me was practically tangible in the little space between us.

He hadn't know. He hadn't know. _He hadn't know_.

"The agency told us that another couple was interested, but we didn't think much of it to be honest. Then they gave us permission to visit Angel and Gazzy . . . and they were there. Your mom was holding Angel's hand and they were all laughing, and your dad was just sitting there like he owned the place . . . and . . . and."

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as Fang's arms came around me, pulling me to his hard chest. He held me closely to him, his lips right by me ear as he continued to speak, saying: "Max, why didn't you tell me about any of this? I would have . . ." he trailed of uselessly. Because he knew, and I knew even better, that there was nothing he could have done.

His words pierced straight through me though, stinging though he meant them to be comforting. I immediately shoved him away, my anger from before returning full force.

"_Why didn't I tell you_?" I demanded furiously, eyes narrowed. "_Maybe _because you're never around for me to. Did _that _ever cross your mind? Because it's a little hard talking to a ghost, Fang. Unless you've somehow managed to turn invisible and I just didn't know it."

Fang sighed, reaching out a thumb, which he then proceeded to run down the side of my face. His obsidian eyes were shrouded in something I couldn't decipher, but did I catch the briefest glints of guilt manifesting there amongst the inky depths? Wordlessly he drew me to him once more, his arms which I always felt were so strong, capable and safe pressing me to him with a new kind of pressure.

"I'll talk to my parents as soon as I can," he promised, his voice low and strained in my ear, as his lips hovered somewhere near my forehead.

I nodded, finding that at some point my throat had closed up completely.

"I'm going to fix everything, Max. I'm going to fix everything."

For some reason, I had the itching feeling he was talking about more than just his parents.

**- }{ -**

I was none too surprised to find Ella and Nudge waiting patiently (in a way that suggests they weren't feeling very patient at all) for my return. At least they had the decency not to pounce on me as soon as I walked into mine and Ella's shared bedroom. Instead Ella continued scrolling through her phone and Nudge didn't stop flipping through the colorful magazine in her hand. Both of their feet were tapping annoyingly against the floor though, and I could tell they were straining themselves not to burst out with questions.

"When did you get here?" I wondered aloud, referring to Nudge's sudden appearance. As I was speaking I kicked off my shoes, watching them fly towards the corner with twin thumps, smacking against the wall before falling in a limp pile on the ground. A smudge was left on the blue paint; the only color Ella and I both agreed on.

"Just a few minutes ago. I was out for a run; you know, keeping in shape and all, when I decided I might as well stop in and say hello. Then your mom asked me to stay for dinner, and I didn't want to be rude and not agree. Besides, _my _mom is going out on a date with some dude tonight, and I would have been just frightfully lonely all by myself at home," she explained, all in one breath. Impressive teen that girl was.

"And how was it?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow as I cocked my head to the side in question. She stared up at me, her milky brown eyes wide and doe-like. Her wild mane of curls was bursting against the seams of the ponytail she had managed to tame it into, a few tendrils sweeping around her mocha-colored face.

"How was what?"

"Your run," I clarified, stifling my amusement as I appraised her decidedly put together profile. Very unlike that of one who had just gotten done running; no sweat or rumpled clothing in sight. What a liar.

"Oh . . . that." At least she had the decency to blush a tiny bit of scarlet, her gaze dropping to her intertwined hands. I couldn't help but laugh a little after that, plopping down onto my back on my bed. The ceiling above was plain white and nondescript, reminding me of my old room. Once again I was reminded of how much things had changed in just a short amount of time.

"Anyway," I started plaintively, rolling onto my side so that I faced the two friends once more. "I'm sure you have a gazillion questions that you've somehow managed to bite your tongues on thus far. Have at it."

It was like a dam positively exploding after that.

"What did he say?"

"What did _you _say?"

"Did he apologize?"

"Did you tell him how worried you've been?"

"Did he _apologize_?"

"Was he still acting strange?"

"_Did he apologize_?"

"Where was he this weekend?"

"Did. He. Apologize?"

"Wha-"

I threw my hands up, making a 'halt' gesture. It took a few tries, but eventually I got them to _shut up_ long enough for my mind to languidly process all their questions. Glaring at them with a look that suggested I thought they were crazy, which they _were_, I said: "One at a time would be nice, thanks."

I then proceeded to explain to them what had been said, excluding the mushy, lovey-dovey parts; like where he had kissed me before he left, more force behind it than there had been for quite some time. They didn't really need those kinds of details, though I'm sure that's exactly what they were hoping for.

It wasn't until later that night though, when I was curled up in my bed, that I really had time to mull over the whole exchange myself.

From downstairs I could hear the faintest strings of Ella and Nudge's giggling, where they were stationed in the living room for their little sleepover. Not a moment later, Aunt Val was yelling down at them to be quiet. I knew that somewhere close at hand Mom was either sleeping soundly or, more than likely, wide awake; allowing the contents of the day to replay in her head.

With sudden clarity a line she had spoken to me once drifted through my mind. _These walls weren't made for secrets_. Yeah, well- these walls were much thicker now. Much, _much _thicker. There were plenty of things I could hide from her. Things I fully intended to keep from them all.

Those were the last words to enter my thoughts before I was drifting to sleep, falling under the murky blanket of slumber that conceded to cloak me . . .

_It was snowing. I could feel the pressure of it brushing like light whispers on my skin. It was surprisingly warm though; not the icy wetness that usually accompanied the precipitation. And besides, it was almost summer again. Why was it snowing?_

_I opened my eyes to inspect this enigma, only to find my vision completely obscured by the great whiteness before me. Reaching out a tentative finger I plucked a flake from the air, only to find a pristine white feather laying in my palm._

_Not snow. Feathers. I was drowning in a shower of feathers. Feathers . . . feathers . . . feathers . . ._

My eyes shot open, as a sharp crack reached my ears. It sounded like something a whip would make; fast and agonizing. My gaze immediately shifted to the window, expecting to find the glass a maze-like web of frosted fissures. The pane, however, was as undivided as usual.

I was just relaxing back into my pillows when sudden movement on the other side caught my attention. In seconds I was at the lip of the window, peering out into the night. The sky was a gaping maw, concealing most everything. I couldn't mistake the flash I saw there though.

I was turning away in defeat when I saw it again, this time out of the corner of my eye. On the street below a shadowy figure momentarily stepped into the yellowish glow spilling from a street lamp. They were so far away I couldn't identify features, but there was no mistaking their upturned face, exactly in my direction.

In a heartbeat I was reaching for the edge of the window, my fingers scrabbling against it as I fought to haul it upwards. I didn't have any idea what I was planning on doing- calling out to them? Demanding to know why they were following me? Asking who they were? All I knew was I couldn't loose this chance.

By the time I looked up again though, they were already gone.

**Authors Note: Mhmhmhmhmhm. Yeah. So there. Right. Well . . . bye now. OH. Don't forget to review too.**

**P.S. What kinda sports do you guys play, if any? (:**


	9. Smug

**Chapter Nine:**

_**Smug**_

When I finally managed to fall asleep again, my dream from before seemed to pick up right where it left off . . .

_Feathers . . . feathers . . . feathers . . ._

_They were everywhere; drifting from some unseen source. Through the thick of them, I could barely see the briefest flashes of a midnight blue, like the sky just after the sun sets. I tried moving forward, using my arms to part the air before me. They continued pouring down though, catching in my hair and sliding off my body like liquid._

_All the while they were building up at my feet, making it more difficult to move with each step I took. Every which way I turned, great dunes of them towered into the sky, creating mountainous barriers that I didn't dare forge through._

_The pale feathers still swirled around my feet, though the ground I was treading on seemed completely smooth. The soles of my shoes didn't catch on anything, but this wasn't necessarily a good thing, considering not a moment later I found myself slipping and sliding._

_My whole body shook and quivered as I bent this way and that, trying to keep my balance. Sheets of feathers rained down -impossibly heavier- and with one final gust my legs shot out from under me._

_The impact my body made with the floor was harsher than I could have imagined, taking into account the massive amount of padding the feathers would have seemingly offered. My breath was completely knocked out of me, and it was all I could do to stay immobile and just gasp in air._

_Those last few seconds meant everything though._

_Before I could stop it, I found myself being smothered by the creamy, stark feathers. They piled high on my fallen form, blocking out any light I previously received, and all the oxygen as well. My throat was closing rapidly, and my head spun dangerously._

_I was dying. I was-_

"She sleeps like the dead, I _swear_," a voice said, reaching through my subconscious and yanking me from my chilling dream- no, _nightmare_.

"Are you kidding?" another person joined the other, sounding incredulous. "Do you know her at all? She'd wake up if a mouse so much as passed her bed. Look, she's coming to right now!"

I opened my eyes groggily, blinking in the morning light now filtering in through the window. Blearily I sat up in bed, pulling the covers around my shoulders as I did so. Glancing towards the door I saw Ella and Iggy glaring at each other, hands on their hips; though with Iggy it just made me want to laugh.

"What are you guys doing?" I demanded, giving them a look of my own. "And Iggy, what the hell are you doing in my house? Don't think I've forgotten about the little glitter incident."

He smiled sweetly at me, taking a few strides with his mile long legs across the room, where he then proceeded to drop onto my bed with a scary precision for a blind guy. I narrowed my eyes at him impossibly further, raising my fist in warning. He was perfectly aware of the damage I could cost him with just one punch. Too bad he couldn't see my threat.

"Because I missed you, Maxie," he insisted.

"Oh, give me a break. Because you want something from me is more likely," I replied, rolling my eyes. Did this kid think he was fooling me? I knew Iggy well enough to know better than that. We hadn't been friends for very long, but I did consider him to be an addition to my small circle of people I trusted, though looking back on the bomb in my locker, it might be wise to rethink that decision.

In the end I didn't really get to figure out what that was, though. School was beckoning, and I needed to get ready or else I'd be late. I couldn't afford any more mishaps like that so close to the end of the year. I would graduate and then I'd be . . . done. So I quickly and effectively yanked Iggy by the collar from the room, sending him packing with the order to make me breakfast.

What can I say? The blind guy was an insanely amazing cook.

When I turned back around Ella was standing in the same spot as previously, staring out into the hallway wistfully. I raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to elaborate on the longing expression on her face.

"He's so-" she began with a small smile playing around her lips.

"Never mind. I don't even want to know," I interrupted her, shaking my head. Ella developing a cute-sy little crush on Iggy was the last thing I needed to be worried about right now, especially with all that's been piling on my plate as of late.

Out of my peripheral vision I saw Ella shrug before skipping out the door once more, full of peppy happiness and shine. It almost made me shudder, considering the reason for her excitement. At this hour she was usually barely functioning. Not when Iggy was present though. Oh of _course _not.

Ew, ew, ew, ew. _EW_!

Within a few minutes I was ready, having simply slung on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, as per usual. My hair hung straight and limp over my shoulder; a single blond strand curling around my ear. I tucked it away from my face, lightly making my way down the stairs. The delicious smell wafting from the kitchen was calling out to me with the promise of a full stomach. As soon as I thought this, hunger rumbled dangerously and threateningly there.

As I neared the kitchen voices sprung up as I entered hearing distance, going from a faint murmur to discernible speech. When I rounded the corner into the room though, I was taken off guard so completely that all other thoughts fled my mind.

Iggy was busy setting plates of something onto the table, as Ella examined him from a safe distance, though making it blatantly obvious that she was watching him. She still couldn't get used to the fact that he was blind, but still able to do so much. She probably didn't have any idea he could sense where her eyes strayed, pinpointed on his every move . . .

And lounging against the counter was the last person I ever expected to see in my kitchen again. His black hair fell into his eyes as he glanced up upon my entrance, his obsidian colored eyes as effortlessly blank as always. The corner of his mouth twitched up as our gazes met.

"Hey Max," Fang said quietly, leaning even further back on his elbows, which rested on the cold granite of the counter top.

"Hey . . ." I said slowly, raising an eyebrow at him. What was he doing here?

"I figured I'd give you a ride to school," he intoned, answering my unspoken question. I nodded in response, awkwardly moving to sit down at the table. My mood had run sour, though I should be happy he was offering, or even thinking about me at all.

Because the truth was: everything about us was awkward now. I had no idea what to say to him half the time, and he really didn't contribute to conversation much. I felt like, despite everything we had been through, he was pulling further and further away; once again morphing into the allusive stranger he was to me previously. There was a time not long ago that I could always count on him to be there for me . . . but now I hardly knew who he was, and I was afraid any sort of relations between us would crumble because of that.

In other words: not good.

That was why I was a little on edge by the time I was done eating my breakfast, and Fang and I were on our own for the ride to school. I wasn't sure if I should be thankful for the seclusion or not. On one hand it would potentially give us time to talk about the wayward turn we had taken, but on the other . . . it could just be another hefty, painful silence to add to the list. I don't know which would be harder for me to deal with.

"You're being awfully quiet," Fang remarked after a few minutes, his eyes briefly floating to mine before they drifted back to the road he was navigating ahead of us. We pulled to a halt at a stop sign, and he glanced over again as I tried to formulate a response.

Eventually I deemed it reasonable to just shrug, riveting my gaze outside the passenger window so I wouldn't have to see his expression; if there was even one to look at. He let the matter drop after that, which I knew he would. Part of me was hoping he would pursue my silence though. Part of me hoped he still cared enough to worry about my mood change.

All of me wished we could go back to how it was before.

"I guess I just have a lot on my mind lately," I summed up weakly, glaring down at my lap. My hands lay limply there, and I traced the scars covering my palms and fingers. I couldn't remember where they came from; whether it was just everyday life or a fight. The past seemed to blend together into one big mass as each day passed. I was started to accept my better, new way of life. The downfall to that was that I was growing soft . . . and losing Fang, it seemed.

"Like what?" he inquired in his low, velvet smooth tone. There was a hint of concern present, peeking out through his emotionless facade. Even the smallest note of that made me more confident in confiding in him.

"Angel and Gazzy . . ." I trailed off, conjuring up all the courage I had; which was a lot when you stopped to think about it. Tearing my gaze from my hands I looked up at him, _'you' _poised on the tip of my tongue. The word was lost in my throat though, upon taking in his expression.

He was smiling.

Well, not smiling really. _Fang smiling_, to be more exact. The corners of his mouth upturned a bit, stretching across his teeth; which shined white by the crescent shaped area you could see through the cage his lips created. Overall, he was looking extremely pleased about something that was entirely the opposite.

"What are you so smug about?" I demanded, my brows knitted together as I frowned slightly. He just shook his head, chuckling to himself as he maneuvered the car around a corner. I turned my face away, feeling stung.

"I'm glad you think the current position I'm in in terms of Angel and Gazzy is _funny_," I spat through gritted teeth, my eyes burning for no apparent reason. First he starts ignoring me most of the time, and then he has the audacity to laugh about _this_?

"Max," he said with an almost inaudible sigh, and I saw him reaching for my hand out of my peripheral vision. I quickly pulled it out of his reach, tucking it against my other side. Childish? Maybe. But at this point I was more than okay with resigning to such behavior.

"Seriously?" he muttered, giving me some sort of incredulous look I'm sure, but I didn't respond. In fact, I ignored him completely the rest of the drive. From the corner of my eye I could detect his fidgeting, as he shifted this way and that in his seat and moved his hands to and from the wheel. Obviously he was agitated by my behavior.

Good. He more than deserved it.

We were just pulling up to the school when my cell phone started ringing. I hated to carry around the stupid thing, but it did have its purposes. Rolling my eyes I fished it out of my bag, Aunt Valencia's name flashing across the screen. Withholding a sigh I brought the device to my ear.

"I'm at school now, so this better be something either important or quick," I snapped into the phone, some of my pessimistic mood dripping into my words.

"Trust me," Aunt Val quipped back, immune to my seething, "you're going to be quite happy with the news I have to share with you."

"What is it?" I demanded, throwing the car door open as Fang killed the engine. I stepped out onto the sidewalk as Aunt Valencia went on in the same excited tone.

"The agency called just a few minutes ago. Apparently, the other couple interested in adopting Angel and Gazzy decided against it. We were the only other candidates, and they really want to get the two of them out of that home as soon as possible. Your mom and I are going downtown to sign some papers right now."

"Wha . . . What?" was all I could manage to say, all other coherent speech fleeing me. My breath caught in my throat at just the mere thought of such a fortunate turn of events. I couldn't control the hyperactive beating of my heart, as it thumped excessively in my chest; threatening to leap from its place any second.

"Angel and Gazzy will be back in our care before the day is over, if things go according to plan."

Numbly I remember us exchanging goodbyes, and the dial tone swelling in my ear. I'm sure I was trapped on varying levels of shock. It just couldn't seem to compute in my mind. _Angel and Gazzy will be back in our care before the day is over_. It was such a magnificent thought I didn't dare rely too heavily on it.

I mean, what were the odds that Fang's parents really had given up? They . . .

"_You_!" I breathed, rounding on Fang. He was leaning back on the door of his car, that same pleased, smug look as before plastered all over his face. His dark eyes were watching me carefully, a bigger smile yet tugging on his lips.

I grinned so widely it hurt. Without thinking I flew towards him; throwing my arms around his neck tightly. The force of my embrace made him take a few steps back, but his own arms were quickly surrounding me as well. I buried my face in his neck, almost crying in relief, amongst all the other billions of emotions now washing through me.

"But you . . . and then you . . ." I stuttered like an idiot, pulling away from him so I could see his smirk. His beautiful, wonderful smirk. The smirk that no doubt assisted him in whatever he had done to convince his parents to give in. Finally.

"I hope you're not too mad," he replied, and I flashed back to my cold shoulder escapade from just a scant few minutes ago. Even that seemed so very far away now, in hindsight of the news I had just received.

"_Thank you_," I said emphatically, staring up at him through my eyelashes.

"Anytime," he said seriously. "_Anything_."

His last word was a mere whisper as he gripped my face gently between both of his hands, guiding my lips to his. For the first time in what seemed like a very long time, there was a fire behind his kiss that made my head spin in the way that only he could master. Electricity almost seemed to dance between us, as the proverbial sparks set up a dazzling display behind my closed eyelids, set off by his mouth on mine.

He had that woo-ing effect, no doubt.

Eventually we parted, but not by very much. My head found its way back to his shoulder, as his arms loosely came around mine. I closed my eyes briefly there, but opened them once more when a prickling sense that I was being watched crept up my spine; flooding my senses with paranoia.

It didn't take me long to catch sight of the hooded figure, standing motionless at the end of the street. His face was in shadows, but I could tell he was looking in my direction. For a moment we just stared at each other, before he turned on his heel without warning, walking in the opposite direction.

I didn't hesitate to run after him.

**Authors Note: I'd like to take a moment to point out that I know nothing about the adoption process, so I'm purposefully keeping it kind of vague, that way I don't screw up all the details. Some of what I have talked about may seem a little off. I'm sorry about that. Once again, it's simply because I'm not familiar with it.**

**And for the one of you that asked (I'm just feeling too lazy to respond to just your review :P), I play volleyball, haha.**

**P.S. Since it's Mother's Day and all . . . how awesome is your mom? ;)**


	10. Dilemmas

**Authors Note: I realized I have yet to profusely apologize for my horrible updating. (Or maybe I have. I can't remember) So yeah. I'm incredibly sorry. I'm usually so good about updating . . . but this story? Not so much. I've been in a weird writing funk lately. I shall do my best to overcome it (:**

**Thanks for your continuous support though. I'll try to do better.**

**Chapter Ten:**

_**Dilemmas**_

My feet collided with the pavement at a steady pace, as I took off sprinting down the long stretch of sidewalk. Ahead of me my sight zeroed in on the figure I was pursuing. He was closing in on the coming corner. I pressed for more speed, pushing my endurance to the test. It was the most strenuous physical act I had been in since National's. I just had to hope my body was up for the challenge.

Behind me I could hear Fang's footfalls as he followed close at my heels, calling my name in a bewildered tone. He didn't reach out to stop me though, somehow sensing the urgency I was exuding, as always.

Thankfully, I naturally leaned towards the more athletic side. I was barely fazed as I looped around the corner of the building ahead, having seen my stranger disappear there just moments before. I didn't know whether he had sensed my fast approach or not. I was hoping for the latter.

When I cleared the corner though, he was nowhere in sight. Skidding to a halt I whirled in a circle, frantically examining the immediate area. My chest heaved as the effort from beforehand caught up with me. My breathing was slightly irregular, but I ignored the faint burn in my chest. There was no time to worry about that.

"Max, what the heck is wrong with you?" Fang demanded, snagging my elbow in his iron grip. He steered me around to face him, forcing me to look at his raised eyebrow and questioning stare.

I shook my head, peering around once more. Wrenching out of his grip I took a few steps away, running a hand through my hair in frustration. There was no denying it. The strange, hooded figure that seemed to be popping up everywhere I went was no longer in sight. Once again, he had flawlessly slipped through my grip.

"_Max_," Fang said plaintively, sounding more exasperated than before. I twisted my head around to face him, smiling apologetically.

"Sorry, I thought I saw somebody I knew," I explained lamely; the claim coming easier since this technically wasn't a lie. I didn't want to assume that, though. I couldn't be sure it was Dylan. He was supposed to be in New Jersey after all. He was supposed to be starting over, not coming back to haunt me.

And it wasn't like I could just come out and directly tell Fang that somebody had been tailing me, especially with my suspicions about their identity. Knowing him, he'd flip out in the form of going all dark and scarily silent. We still had plenty of problems between us without tacking that on, thanks.

Fang's brow continued to rise, as he stared at me wordlessly through midnight colored, narrowed eyes. So he didn't believe me. Big surprise there.

"We should probably go. We're going to be late enough as it is," I suggested, grabbing his hand as I hurried past him. He resisted my hold for a few moments after that, before eventually obliging to my tugging. As we walked he intertwined our fingers; mine fitting oh so fairytale perfectly between his.

For just another snippet of time we were back to normal. I couldn't wait to see how long that one would last . . . and the downfall we would experience after it had dwindled.

**- }{ -**

"-and she was totally wearing the same shirt!" Nudge ranted from the backseat, nearing the end of her spewing speech. Ella emitted the appropriate gasp, and I glanced in the rearview mirror just in time to catch a glimpse of her aghast expression.

"No!" she insisted.

"I swear on my _life_. It was even the exact color as mine. I mean, really? Who even does that? It's not like she didn't totally know I was getting it. She was in the store with me, because she had just gotten that -admittedly- really cute haircut, and she was stopping by to get a pair of jeans or something. At least that's what she said. Instead, she rips off the super adorable top I managed to find! And then has the audacity to ask me when I was wearing it, so she could apparently wear it the same day. It's an outrage, I tell you. An utter-"

"I can feel my manly cells depleting as we speak," Iggy moaned from in between the two gossips, dropping his head in his hands dramatically. Fang rolled his eyes at me from behind the wheel, giving me a small, out of place smile. I didn't hesitate to return it, albeit a bit surprised.

The five of us were packed tightly into Fang's car; the others somehow convincing him to give them all a ride. Iggy had tried to vouch for shotgun, but I called him out on it. Luckily too, or else I would have been the one in his position; locked between Ella and Nudge. That was never a good thing.

"Can we just drop them all off at the side of the road?" Fang inquired, loud enough to overcome the girls' chatter. He smirked at their reactions, while pulling onto Iggy's street. Up ahead I could see his familiar apartment building.

"Sure, why not? Let's let them fend for themselves," I agreed, grinning at them mock-maliciously over my shoulder. Nudge stuck her tongue out, like the child she was, but shut up with a huff. Ella just shook her head and turned to the window, staring out of it. There was a small smile playing around her lips though.

"You couldn't pay me enough to stay here another second!" Iggy proclaimed as Fang rolled to a stop in front of the steps of his building. Without another word he launched over Ella's lap, making her blush profusely, shoving through the door. He stumbled onto the sidewalk, barely managing to keep ahold of his things. He was able to untangle his long legs enough to stand though, his strawberry blond hair dancing haywire in the wind. Ella waved meekly to him through the smudged glass, and he smiled in return before hopping up the stairs and through the door.

Nudge was the next to go; miraculously keeping mostly silent for the rest of the drive. It wasn't until she was gone that I realized that the person she had furiously been texting the entire time was _Ella_. Oh well. Her substitute worked well enough for me, as long as I didn't have to hear another second of her typically teenage angst.

I loved Nudge. I really did. She had done so much for my family; babysitting Angel and Gazzy whenever I needed (usually on a whim), and most importantly keeping the secret about my mother, especially considering how loose-lipped she was. She somehow managed to keep it from slipping, for which I was eternally grateful. But honestly, the girl talked _too much_. Constantly. We all had our flaws though, if that could be considered one.

It didn't change the fact that she was part of my family; now until the day I died.

"What are you thinking about?" Fang asked quietly, breaking through my thoughts with a soft blow. I shifted my gaze to Ella, who was stretched out in the back seat, now that it was only occupied by her. She had ear buds in, and a completely disinterested look on her face, but there was no way to know if she was listening in or not.

I shrugged, running a hand through my hair. "Everything in general," I replied, purposefully sounding vague. I hoped he would take the hint; which he did. No surprise there.

"All your problems are going to be solved soon, anyway. Then you won't have so much on your mind." He was referring to getting Angel and Gazzy back . . . but I had to wonder if that would be the end of my dilemmas, or if they were just beginning.

Because it was becoming clearer and clearer that the return of my siblings would only scratch the surface. Whole new complications were arising. Fang. The stranger seemingly following me around, that could be Dylan. Reconciliation with my mother. And it was only safe to assume that I would find myself in even more predicaments as time passed.

Even during this stage of relative peace, my balance in life was shaky at best. There was nothing any amount of assistance from Aunt Val or my other friends that could change that. It was just how things were . . .

And how they'd always be.

"Max."

I started, rocking forward in my seat. My chest strained against the seat belt, before I moved back into a regular sitting position. Glancing up I realized that at some point in my musings we had arrived home. Fang was already parked snug at the curb, and I was the only one left in the vehicle. He peered down at me through the window; his voice having reached me sufficiently muffled by the glass. Shaking my head I blinked several times before mechanically undoing my restraints.

"Is it just me, or are you zoning even more than usual?" Fang inquired as I climbed onto the gray pavement; slamming the door shut behind me. Up ahead Ella was just entering the house, her dark ponytail swinging around her head with every step she took. The front door swung wide before creaking closed after her.

"Sorry," I said, smiling weakly. "Like I said, I just have a lot on my mind."

"Are you okay?" Fang asked, his brow tugging down in barely masked concern. His fingers found their way into mine, and I squeezed back reassuringly. The troubled remains in his eyes didn't diminish though.

"I'm fine," I replied, trying to sound chipper. "Everything's going according to plan . . . Everything's perfectly okay . . . right?"

Could he sense the double meaning in my words? In any case, he didn't show it.

Fang nodded wordlessly, his dark eyes still trained on mine like he was searching for something he hadn't quite grasped yet. It was odd. He could usually read me within a fraction of a glimpse.

"How about you stay for awhile?" I suggested in vain. "Be distracting."

As soon as the words left my mouth I knew the answer. Without hesitation a shadow passed across his face; his usual blank mask falling into place perfectly. His torso seemed to visibly shudder as he sighed almost inaudibly, tugging his hand from mine gently. That didn't make it sting any less, though.

"I can't," he stated simply, a small apology pooling in his depthless eyes; casting the obsidian irises with a light film of his useless 'sorry'.

_You can't, or you won't?_ was the question I was about to pose, my hands balling into fists at my side, when I was interrupted by the abrupt shrieking of the door. I whipped my head around to see who it was; not in the mood for getting cut off.

"Max!" Ella shouted excitedly. "Hurry, come quick!"

"What's going on?" I demanded, raising an eyebrow. Couldn't she wait for two more seconds? I got my answer not long after that.

A moment later a head appeared at her elbow; shoving past. Another figure followed. Standing on the familiar stoop of our home were Angel and Gazzy- blond hair shining and blue eyes wide. For what seemed like the longest time all I could do was gape at them in shock.

Aunt Valencia said they got the call earlier this morning, and had to go down to sign some papers . . . but I never thought they'd be able to work so quickly. Yet here before me was living proof: my brother and sister were back in safe care; with their family. Where they _belonged_. It almost seemed too good to be true, especially after all we had went through to get to this point.

Immediately a gigantic grin lit up my face; a mirror image of my siblings. It took all of my self control not to burst into tears, so joyous was the occasion. Were they just figments of my imagination? Was I dreaming? I didn't know. And if I was . . . I didn't want to wake up.

"Max, I have to go now," Fang said, putting his hand on my arm. With that my happiness was shattered, as the anger I had felt before rekindled at his iron grip on my arm. Trying not to make it too obvious I slipped from his grasp, taking a few precautionary steps away.

"Then go," I ordered blankly, my voice a complete monotone. Uncaring with the slightest edge of steel. "If you don't want to be here, then go."

"Max, I-"

I turned on my heel, striding away before he could continue. Not sparing a single glance back I took my brother and sister by their hands and led them inside; making sure to shut the door firmly behind me.

**Authors Note: Uh . . . yeah. So . . . Angel and Gazzy are back. HORRAY! But . . . will it last? (that was me being ominous)**

**Well, I feel like you can probably find SOMEthing to review about. Right? Right? Mhm . . . SO DO IT NOW EVEN THOUGH I SUCK AT UPDATING. Awe, thanks! ;)**

**P.S. Which do you guys prefer in terms of weather: hot or cold? (AKA: winter or summer?)**


	11. Flames

**Authors Note: You. Are. All. CRAZY. Well, at least the people who answered my question were. SERIOUSLY. All of you (and I'm really thinking it was all of you) said you preferred the cold. AHHHHHHHHHH. Nooo. I HATE the cold. Ugh. Bring me the heattt.**

**(I just realized that this chapter is coincidentally titled 'Flames')**

**Chapter Eleven:**

_**Flames**_

"Happy Birthday!"

I was immediately engulfed in a tangle of bedsheets and children, having suffered their ambush early in the morning. Groaning I sat up, pushing the covers twisted around my body down towards my feet. I wiped at my sleepy eyes, blinking at the two innocent kids in front of me.

Angel was grinning from ear to ear; her pearly whites flashing in the dim light streaming through the slightly grimy window. Neither of them had turned on the light in their haste. Gazzy was smiling as well. His blond hair was spiked as haphazardly as usual, and he laughed at the expression I must have been wearing.

"What are you guys doing?" I demanded, my voice coated with the drag of sleep. I squinted at the clock, reading that it was just a little past seven in the morning. Pushing a strand of hair behind my ear I turned to glare at them incredulously.

"It's your birthday!" Angel proclaimed with a giggle, sliding her skinny arms around my legs and tugging to get me off the bed. I shook my head at her attempts, poking her with my foot to get her to stop.

"It's what?" I asked in groggy confusion.

"You forgot?" Gazzy looked astounded. "How could you forget your own birthday?"

"_Seriously_?"

"Yeah!" Angel insisted, flipping her hair over one shoulder in a way she must have seen me do a thousand times. I had to fight a smile at this. My not-so little baby was picking up my habits like they were her own.

"I guess . . . I did forget," I admitted somewhat sheepishly. In all that had been going on, my eighteenth birthday had taken a back seat to it all. Especially the last week or so since Angel and Gazzy had come back home. We had been busy melding them into our new lifestyle, while I had simply been spending as much time with them as possible. Making up for time lost, I suppose.

So yeah, this date hadn't been foremost in my thoughts for quite awhile.

"Well it is . . . so what do you want to do today?" Ella's voice floated over to us from across the room. We all looked simultaneously to the side. At some point she had awakened, and was now laying propped up on her elbow, staring over at us.

"I don't really care," I replied with a shrug. "Whatever you guys want is fine by me."

"_Max_," Gazzy complained, rolling his eyes. He shook his head in a way that suggested he thought I was completely inept and incompetent. "It's _your _birthday. You get to pick what we do. That's how it works."

I laughed, climbing to my feet. Once I was standing I turned back to my two siblings, who were still sprawled on my bed. With a wide smile I said: "Then let's have some fun today."

Gazzy complied with a whoop, standing a bit shakily on my bed. He vaulted off the mattress, landing on the floor with a thump that resounded through the house. Shooting me a sheepish look he quickly fled the scene of the crime, just as Mom's voice shouted up the stairs; something I wasn't paying enough attention to, to discern.

Angel, heeding Mom's warning, stepped off as normal; planting her feet firmly and quietly on the ground. I ruffled her curls as she passed, and she stopped momentarily to grin up at me, her blue eyes suffused with a kind of happiness I wasn't accustomed to. Then she skipped out of the room as well, her pink shirt darting from sight soon after.

When I turned back around I found Ella sitting up, perched on the edge of her own bed. She was watching me carefully, a calculating look in her brown eyes. I raised an eyebrow at her questioningly. It was a moment before she deemed it necessary to elaborate.

"It's just . . . You'd do anything for them, wouldn't you?" she inquired, sounding thoughtful. "No, don't answer that. I already know it's a yes. I can see it. Anybody can see it. You care about them more than anything."

I stared straight back at her now, silently wondering where this was coming from.

"I can remember the bare minimum of my life before Mom turned to drugs and my sorry excuse for a father left us for his new family. And even then, most of it is the bad stuff. I know pain like you would never believe. There are people in this world that are way worse off than I am, but that doesn't take away from the fact that I worked hard for everything I have. Angel and Gazzy _are _my life. Everything I ever did was for them. Those two kids didn't deserve to be raised the way they did. That's why I did everything in my power to give them the upbringing they're worthy of. I don't regret a second of it."

Ella was quiet for a minute after that, and all I could do was watch her face for signs of distress or admiration. Eventually she looked up at me from her lap once more, her eyes glistening; something I wasn't expecting at all.

"They're so lucky though," she insisted. "They're so lucky to have you for a sister. And they know it too. We all do. You're the only one who can't see how much better off they are because of it. Because of _you_, Max."

"I . . ." I said slowly, at a loss for words.

"You've done so much for all of us, even me, as hard as it seems. And you're right. None of it was ever for you. Today, just . . . just promise you'll put yourself first. Just for today."

I nodded, unable to form a proper response. Was this just Ella's view on things, or was it something they had all talked over? I didn't have enough coherent thought in my mind to ask. What a way to start the day. I could only imagine how it would end.

Talk ceased between us then, as we bustled around the room getting ready individually. I, of course, was finished _way _before she was. I nodded to her as goodbye, and she smiled from where she was fixing her hair. Then I slipped out into the hallway, my bare feet padding lightly across the carpet.

Downstairs there was quite a commotion coming from the kitchen. Gazzy gave me a warning, apprehensive look from his spot on the couch. He was flipping through the channels, discarding cartoon after cartoon. I stood to watch for a moment, and was ultimately surprised when he offered the remote to me. I shook my head though, pushing it back towards him.

"I'm going to go see what they're up to," I informed him, already beginning to turn away.

"Good luck," he said in response.

Shaking my head I approached the kitchen, where the clattering reigned on. Prepared to dive back out just in case, I hesitantly stepped under the arch. The first thing I saw was the crazy amount of food laying about. Then I caught sight of Mom and Aunt Val bustling around the counters, looking like they'd been hard at work for quite some time. Iggy was standing at the stove as well, stirring something in a pot. Even Nudge was there, chattering her head off at the table, though I'm sure no one was listening.

As it happened, she was the first one to spot me as well. With a squeal she launched from her chair, closing the distance between her and I in record time. Without pausing she threw her arms around me in a death grip, holding me tightly. With a shaky laugh I hugged her back.

"Happy Birthday, Max!" she exclaimed cheerfully, her wild hair framing her smiling face.

I nodded in thanks, then said: "Ella's upstairs getting ready, if you want to go up there."

In a second she was flying from the room, just as quickly as she had come to me. Now that she was gone, Iggy enveloped me in a hug of his own, spoon in hand. I dodged the liquid dripping from it, narrowing my eyes at him as he tried to dangle it over my head.

"Maxie!" he crowed. "So you're eighteen today. How does it feel to be old?" he asked jokingly, his sightless blue eyes trained on a spot just above my eyebrow. I shoved him with a laugh, choosing not to respond to that.

"Get back to work!" I commanded in good nature, smiling at him even though he couldn't see it.

"Sheesh. Demanding, much? I know it's your birthday, but you don't have to go all diva on us poor, humble friends. You won't get your present acting that way," he taunted, a mischievous look coming into his eyes. That was something to be wary of.

"Yeah, yeah. Something tells me I'm better off not knowing," I replied.

Aunt Valencia took that as her cue to intervene, stepping between us with a small smile on her tanned face. She gave us both a stern look, saying: "Okay you two. Cut it out now. Iggy, you be nice to Max and get back to work. Max, don't torture the poor boy. He's in charge of making some of your food, after all."

"_Don't _give him any ideas," I hissed under my breath, but I'm sure he still heard me. Since he couldn't see, it seemed like Iggy's hearing was ten times better than the normal persons. Then again, Iggy was anything but normal. Nobody made bombs like he did in his spare time, just for the fun of it.

"With that being said," Aunt Val continued as if I hadn't spoken, "Happy Birthday!"

I thanked her, and she smiled before returning to the counter and whatever work she had been immersed in. Mom slid into her place, all shiny smiles and happiness. There was a certain glow about her that morning that was hard to place.

"Happy Birthday, sweetie," she said in that soft voice of hers, pulling me into an embrace. I hesitated a few seconds before wrapping my own arms around her. I don't know if she noticed my pause or not, and in any case she gave no indication that it bothered her.

It was the first time though, that I realized just how much taller I was than her. I know it seemed like a weird thing to observe, but she really did only come up to maybe a little above my shoulder. I also noted that she was filling out some; no longer as skeletal as she used to be.

Behind me I heard someone enter the room, and I turned to see who it was just in time to catch Gazzy rolling his eyes at our position, looking more than a bit disgusted. Things between him and Mom weren't getting any better, that was for sure. Angel trailed in after him, looking as serene as usual.

"Okay, everybody! Sit down. Phase one of Max's birthday feast is commencing," Aunt Valencia announced, herding us all towards the table. There was a smudge of something on her cheek, and I laughed and pointed it out to her. She swatted me away with a dish towel, before wiping her cheek.

We all settled in, as Ella and Nudge joined us. Mountains of my favorite breakfast foods (which were basically all of them) were passed around the crowded table, as were an abundance of smiles and laughs.

Nobody seemed to notice how fake mine were.

Here was my family. The only people in the world I really trusted and cared for . . . yet it wasn't complete. One of the most important people was missing. The phone in my pocket seemed to weigh more and more as each second ticked by . . .

Fang didn't call. Fang didn't show up on our doorstep. Fang didn't contact me at all.

Obviously this had been planned. There was no way both Nudge and Iggy just randomly decided to pop in, unannounced like this. They had arranged it all for my birthday. There's no way they wouldn't have included Fang in their itinerary. That meant he was voluntarily not here for me.

The very thought shot a sinking feeling down to the pit of my stomach.

I was snapped from my musings though, by Mom speaking. As she talked she stuck six candles into my mixture of pancakes and waffles; Iggy offering her a lighter he somehow conjured up. "Since you're eighteen today, and there are three phases of your birthday feast -breakfast, lunch and dinner- it only seems logical that throughout the day you blow out as many candles. So, here are your first six. By the end of the day you'll have done eighteen."

I smiled secretly to myself, pushing through the bitter taste in my mouth. The _majority _of my family was here. Fang wasn't going to ruin this day. Not after everything they had gone to to make it so special.

The wicks were lit, wax starting to drip down the sides. I was just leaning forward when the house phone started to ring. The slim possibility that it was Fang sparked in my mind, and in a flash I was out of my seat, breathlessly answering the land line.

"Hi. Is Valencia Martinez available?" the stranger on the other end inquired politely, and my shoulders drooped in defeat. Trying to mask my disappointment I turned and offered the phone to Aunt Val, saying a simple: "It's for you."

Returning to my seat, I slumped into it. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Aunt Valencia leave the room, just as the others picked up a loud, tuneless version of the birthday song. I smiled wanly along with them, mechanically dispersing the flames of the candles when they were finished, as custom called for.

We all dug in after that, different conversations picking up around the table. I let my ears linger and mingle, listening to the small talk everyone was making. I didn't speak myself, though. My throat was closing up continuously, making it hard to swallow my food.

Apparently, that wasn't the end of it.

A good ten minutes or so after she had slipped out, Aunt Val returned once more. Her face was a mask of something I couldn't quite place, but she was wearing a wide smile as she took her seat across from me.

"Well everybody, I have some news."

It took a moment for everyone to quiet down, but eventually all that could be heard was the scrape of utensils as we ate. I set my fork down in anticipation of her announcement, staring at her as I waited.

"Now is as good a time as any, especially since everybody is present, to tell you all that we're moving back to Arizona . . ."

What?

Aunt Valencia shifted her glance to Mom, then Angel and Gazzy, and finally _me_.

"All of us."

_What?_

**Authors Note: I'm supposed to be giving someone credit for the whole moving idea. Except I can't remember who that was, and apparently my skimming through reviews on THE wasn't very thorough. So . . . uh . . . you know who you are. I'M SORRY! :(**

**P.S. Anyone play any kewl instruments? Mhmm. (:**


	12. Crack

**Authors Note: You guys make me feel untalented and sad with all the kewl instruments you play. But don't worry, this summer two of my friends and I are going to learn how to play guitar . . . and then we're going to start a band! Awhh yeah.**

**Haha, anyway: continue with your reading.**

**Chapter Twelve:**

_**Crack**_

And again, I repeat: "_What_?" This time, it was out loud though, for everyone to hear. I couldn't mask the utter shock and surprise in my tone either; nor the disbelief that she would propose such a thing.

Aunt Valencia turned to me, seemingly disgruntled about my outburst. "Well . . . yes. It was only a temporary sort of move for work, and they need me back now. Since the agreement we made with Social Services was that I would stay on and help raise Angel and Gazzy, I can't leave you guys here. Besides, I think it'll be good for all of you to get away from the city. Breathe some different air."

"Are you _insane_?" I managed to grind out, struggling to hold a clamp down on my anger. It was threatening to spew over the edge, and I had no idea what I would do in that case. Already my hands were balled into fists; trembling with the urge to punch something.

"What?" She looked taken aback.

"You seriously want us to _leave_?" I demanded incredulously, awestruck to the point where I had to force my jaw to stay intact. "After everything we've been through, you think it'd be a better idea to just run away from it all?"

Aunt Val's gaze hardened; our twin stubbornness shining through with her just as strongly as mine. "Max, please sit down. We need to talk about this rationally. Don't yell like a child. You're an adult now, remember?"

I hadn't even realized until then that somewhere during our exchange I had jumped to my feet, my chair laying on its back behind me. My fork was still gripped in my hand dangerously, the points glistening silver and dripping maple syrup. Before my hostility got the best of me and I did something stupid, like driving into the wood of the table, I dropped it with a clatter onto my plate.

Breathing deeply I took a moment to assess the others reactions.

Iggy and Nudge, who were the only ones present who weren't subject to this delusional 'move', looked equally horrified. Aunt Valencia was basically suggesting we all leave them behind, and move halfway across the country.

Mom's expression was carefully blank, like she didn't want to portray her emotion towards her sister's preposition. An itching feeling crept up my spine; one that said she probably wouldn't mind escaping the city that had treated her so badly.

For the most part, Angel and Gazzy both tried not to outwardly exude how terrible Aunt Val's idea sounded. I knew them though, better than anyone in the room. They were none too ecstatic about the prospect of going away. This was all they had ever known, after all.

The worst part though, was how happy Ella appeared. Her brilliant smile offset the others by a mile. The chance to get to return to all her friends and other family, if she had any, probably sounded amazing to her.

And me? Well, the thought bled more bitterly every second it infiltrated my mind.

"This is ridiculous," I stated, my voice low. I was trying to calm down as best as I could, but her announcement had shoved me onto a ledge I wasn't ready to take on.

"You have to think about everyone el-" she began quietly, but I cut her off.

"I have to think of everyone else?" I finished for her, my tone venomous. "_I have to think about everyone else?_ Of course I do. That's how it _always _is. It's never been about me! For my entire life I put at least someone before myself. Today was the day I wasn't supposed to do that, though. Stop trying to guilt me into agreeing to this. It's not going to work."

A stunned silence met my piercing words. It seemed that nobody had anything to say to my little speech; each individual syllable another harsh reminder of the past . . . of everything I had done to get us to this point, just for it to get thrown back into my face.

"Happy Birthday to me," I muttered sullenly as I stalked from the room, leaving behind a ghostly stillness. I didn't glance back once as I slammed the front door hard behind me, taking to the pavement without the slightest idea of where I was going.

That was the good thing about New York. You didn't have to know where you were going. It was blissfully simple to get lost in it all.

. . . I could only take so much of wandering the streets though. After my initial anger had worn off, my mind emptied out, and all that was left was the thump of my feet on the dull concrete. I wasn't much one for mindless searching. I needed a purpose.

Knowing that what I really needed was to talk to someone, I fished my phone from my pocket. After doing so I paused, becoming aware that I had just left behind anyone I would have chosen to speak to at my house. My only other option was Fang, but seeing as he hadn't tried to contact me at all thus far, I wasn't really sure whether I wanted to talk to him or not.

A quick, slicing pang of missing Jared shot like a rifle through me, but I hurriedly shrugged it away. He wasn't here to help me with my problems anymore. I couldn't do anything about that.

Sighing, but knowing I didn't have much of a choice, I keyed in the familiar number. Holding it to my ear I put my other hand in my pocket, stopping to lean against the hard mass of a building. The stone dug into my shoulder, but I ignored it, focusing on the buzz in my ear. After a few moments of ringing, an automated voicemail picked up, ordering me to leave a message.

I didn't. Instead I hung up, then tried again. And again. And again. And again. I called him so many times I lost count, and each of my attempts were met with nothing but a robotic voice on his end. Finally I got tired of it, and did as the monotonous voice told me.

"Fang. I don't really know what's going on with you right now, and at this point I don't really care anymore. _ I don't care _that it's my birthday, and you haven't called or stopped by or even texted me for that matter. _I don't care _that you keep breaking all the promises you never meant in the first place. _I don't care _that you act like _you _don't care half the time. Just . . . call me back. Please. Things are falling apart. I don't know what to do . . . I . . . just call me back."

Throughout the entire message, my voice shook, trembling constantly. I had seemingly bared all my vulnerability to him; more than I would have preferred. It had taken me up until that point to truly realize the depth of my situation.

I either moved to Arizona with my newly intact family, and had to consequentially leave behind all my friends and Fang . . . or I stayed in New York, and gave up Angel and Gazzy right when I got them back. The decision seemed impossible to make, especially when the one person whose opinion mattered the most was completely ignoring me.

Bitterly I shut down my phone. On the off chance that he did call me back, let him worry. Let him feel a small part of what he was putting me through. I was beyond caring at that point. If he couldn't spare me one second, then I wouldn't do him any favors.

I started walking again, no particular place in my mind. Eventually my pace picked up, escalating until I was running through the twisting streets. The only sound in my ears was the whistling of the wind, my breathing and the pounding of my sneakers. Nothing else, just the way I liked it.

It was times like these that I missed street fighting. How else was I supposed to vent my anger? Especially with how much everything was building up. My time of relative peace had gone and crashed to ashes around me. All of my muscles and tendons were coiled into one mass of stress and tension. An overwhelming need to lash out at something enveloped me, and I used the adrenaline it produced to push myself faster.

Through my escapade I didn't keep track of time. I didn't stop until the sun was high in the sky though, having morphed from morning to afternoon. Surprisingly, I was barely fazed. It only took a few moments to regain my breath, as a light trickle of sweat dripped down my collar.

Placing my hands on my hips, I surveyed my familiar surroundings. It occurred to me how odd and coincidental it was that I had ended up here of all places, but deep inside I knew it had been my destination all along.

Without pausing again, my fingers found the cool metal of the fire escape. I climbed the rickety stairs, as they groaned beneath my weight. Rusted hinges and loose bolts groped out, snagging my clothes as I ascended.

Finally reaching the top, I took a deep breath. The air seemed just a little clearer at this altitude. Everything was completely still around me. Not even the barest hint of a wind whispered by. The atmosphere was holding its breath for something unknown.

For a little while after that I walked around the perimeter of the roof, kicking up desolate pieces of trash and other miscellaneous items that had accumulated there over time. I did my best to not think too heavily of the inevitable, but my looming decision had a way of creeping back up at the slightest lapse in thought.

Hours must have passed while I stood up there. The sun was preparing its descent by the time anything disturbed the strange tranquility I had melded into. Dusk approached just as the dark figure did me, treading quietly across the space between us.

"Max," Fang said quietly, stopping beside me. I turned my face to the sky for a few seconds, before rolling my head back towards him. Biting my lip I stared into his depthless obsidian eyes, like reflective ink colored marbles.

I didn't say a word, any greeting I could muster getting trapped in my rapidly closing throat.

"I figured you'd be here," he stated simply and smoothly, not saying a word about any missed phone calls. He didn't apologize either. I didn't know if that was better or worse. It was just like him to avoid such a conversation.

"I didn't have many other places to go," I managed to croak out, my voice raspy and choked up.

Fang's eyes narrowed in concern, and for the first time since he arrived he reached out to touch me. His warm fingers brushed against my cheek, tilting my chin so that I didn't have any choice but to look him in the eye.

"Max, what's going on?" he inquired. "What's wrong?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but it seemed like the flood gates in my eyes took that as a cue to expose themselves as well. I was mostly astounded. It wasn't like a cried a whole lot. It didn't fix anything after all. Sometimes, no matter how tough I was, I couldn't help it though. The stress and anxiety from everything had been building up. I was bound to crack eventually.

Now was that time.

Tears streamed down my face, leaking over my lids and crawling over my chin. I didn't make a noise as they fell, crying soundlessly. The added weight on my shoulders had taken its toll. I could hold up a whole lot, but choosing between the two most important aspects of my life was something I don't think anybody could stand.

Fang, to give him some credit, took this turn of events in stride. He instinctively pulled me into his hard, ropy arms. I pressed my face into the crook of his neck, squeezing my eyes shut tightly like that would cease the flow of hot, salty moisture escaping them.

"Tell me what's wrong," Fang ordered, sounding half soothing and half mad. I didn't know who his anger was directed at, but it didn't seem to be me. Hopefully, at least.

"Aunt Val . . ." I murmured, just loud enough that he could hear me. "She said . . . she said she has to move back to Arizona,"

"I'm sorry, Max," Fang replied, a slight bewilderment marring his tone. Obviously he didn't understand why this was something I'd be reduced to tears over. Sure, he knew how much I loved her already. Not enough to break down, though.

"No. You don't get it," I mumbled. "She has to move back to Arizona . . . and so do _all _of us."

Fang went completely still beside me. I couldn't even detect a movement in his chest to indicate that he was still breathing. A steady silence ambushed the two of us, making everything extremely quiet. It took a few minutes for Fang to speak again.

"No."

"Fang, I-"

"_No_," he stated more forcefully, stepping back so that he could look down at me. His iron-like grip created a vise on my upper arms, as he held me in place. His black glare bored into me, as I stared up at him red faced and somber.

"I don't want to leave."

"You're not going to," he insisted, a white hot fury entering his tone. This time I knew it wasn't directed at me though. "You're not moving all the way to damn Arizona. You _can't_."

"I can't just abandon Angel and Gazzy either," I pointed out, circling his wrists in my fingers tightly.

"They'll be with your aunt and your mom, right? They'll be fine. You're eighteen now. If you wanted, you could stay in the city. You have enough money to get you started, and I have enough money to make sure you stay that way."

He was referring to the twenty thousand I had been given as a reward from the School for competing in National's, most of which I still had. He was right in saying I had enough to establish myself here. Alone.

But could I really leave Angel and Gazzy?

. . . But could I really leave _Fang_?

**Authors Note: But, but, but, but, but. Yeah. That chapter just ended with double but's. Hehehehehe ;) REVIEW-ETH! **

**P.S. Would you guys totally be fans of my band? ;)**


	13. Murdered

**Authors Note: YAY IT'S SUMMER BREAK! Well, it has been actually. Since last Thursday. Why didn't I update then? Uh . . . Good question.**

**Chapter Thirteen:**

_**Murdered**_

I spent the rest of my eighteenth birthday sitting on the roof of a shabby, rundown building I once called home with Fang.

After his initial reaction to my news, he hadn't said anything more on the subject, and I knew he wouldn't ever again. He had this weird thing about not influencing my decisions. In his perspective, I would be able to choose without him pressuring and tugging me towards what he wanted; which was for me to stay in New York with him, Iggy and Nudge. That was just . . . Fang. He didn't want to be responsible if I was upset and ended up regretting my choice.

But most of all (and it was becoming clearer and clearer that he was basically the only person who believed so), he didn't want me to decide based on what _he _wanted. When I was with Fang, it was always about _me_.

Unfortunately for myself, that was the only time I was ever put first; mostly against my own discretion at that.

"So this birthday officially sucked," I remarked blatantly, resting my head comfortably on Fang's shoulder. He shifted from where he was sitting, wrapping his arm around me. "Make that the eighteenth in a row."

"Oh come on," Fang scoffed, nudging the side of my head with his nose. "You're exaggerating. You've had to have had at least _one _good birthday."

"Nope. Never. At least none that I can remember," I insisted nonchalantly, tilting my head up so I could look at him. His dark eyes were, typically, trained on me. We stared wordlessly at each other for a moment, a silent exchange happening that no one but us could manage.

It was times like these that made me forget about how screwed up our relationship was right now. When he was with me, acting normal and Fang-ish, I couldn't even spare a thought towards how aloof he'd been acting of the late. I did now though, and yet I couldn't bring myself to broach the subject. The last thing I needed was that confrontation, especially with how rotten the day had already been. It could wait awhile longer.

"What was your best birthday?" I asked suddenly, the question surfacing through my minds wanderings. Of all the things I could have blurted out, I was glad it was something relatively harmless, like that.

Fang shifted his gaze to the horizon, appearing to be thinking about his answer. I watched him, taking in his thoughtful expression and the way his eyebrows curved slightly downward as he pondered. It was kind of . . . cute. But don't tell him I said so.

"Mhm . . ." he breathed, finally returning his eyes to mine. "I'd definitely have to say my best birthday was when I was ten."

"Ten? Why?" I inquired, grinning up at him. He smirked in return, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards so that it threatened to turn into a smile.

"Well . . . It's kind of stupid, and don't you dare laugh, but . . . Okay, so when I was growing up I always had this thing with flying, right?" he explained, looking to the side like he was embarrassed about what he was admitting.

"Flying?" My mind immediately flashed to the strange dreams I had been having. "Like, birds and feathers flying, or Superman flying?"

"Full on wings -the works- flying," he clarified, chuckling to himself even though he had warned me not to. I nodded for him to continue. "So on my tenth birthday, my parents took me to this museum. It was all dedicated to birds and stuff, and I thought it was the coolest thing ever."

"Awe," I crooned jokingly, poking him in the ribs. "I can just picture wittle Fang getting all excited about some birdies."

He glared at me, shoving my shoulder hard enough to push me onto my back. I laughed as I settled on the dirty concrete, smiling widely up at him as his face hovered over mine. He placed his elbows on either side of my head, carefully keeping his body weight off me, like I would break otherwise. Pshaw.

"Do you want to hear the story or not?" he demanded mockingly, his breath washing over my face with each word. From this angle, he appeared even darker and more mysterious than he usually did. The fading blue of the sky, and the diminishing goldness of the sun cast his face in shadows, so that you could see the barest hints of his bronze skin and the glint of his eyes.

"Of course," I said, forcing myself to appear serious and solemn. A small curve of my lips cracked through that though, which I couldn't help. "Please continue."

"As I was saying," Fang said pointedly, "my parents took me to this museum, and I loved it. They had this thing where you could find out what type of bird you'd be, and a simulation of sorts that made you feel like you were flying. Really _flying_. It was amazing."

I couldn't help but grin at the strange show of emotion on his face, as he spoke. It was such a rare display, that I couldn't pass up reveling in it. A few seconds after he finished though, his expression clouded over again, and he was back to normal.

"Of course the next year they just gave me a bunch of expensive presents I didn't want and left me to myself. That's how things usually were."

I frowned at the obvious discomfort such a memory caused him, as his gaze flitted to the ground beside us. Taking his face in my hands I moved his chin so that he was looking at me once more. I stared at him, my brown eyes wide. In that look I conveyed everything that would be worthless to say.

That I understood how it felt to be alone. That I understood how it felt to be _abandoned_.

"Max . . ." Fang whispered, sounding more helpless than I had ever witnessed him before. I couldn't stand it; couldn't stand to see the one person that could possibly match me in stoniness look so defeated.

My fingers slipped through the strands of his onyx colored hair, guiding his lips past the remaining space between us. His mouth was silken on mine; surprisingly hungry as he pressed against me with a force that I hadn't noticed had been missing until then.

We kissed. And we kissed some more. Then we kissed again. And again. And again. And again. I was surprised my lungs could handle only the short breaths I was taking between them. Any light headed feeling I may have been experiencing was the last thing on my mind, though.

Eventually the fast pace subsided, and he pulled away indefinitely. I bit down on my slightly swollen bottom lip, breathless and more than likely blushing. There was a sinking feeling that quickly replaced the temporary high I had been on, when I saw the uncertain look on his face.

"Max . . . I . . ."

"What?" I could barely swallow, the thickness in my throat was so great.

"I . . . Max I . . ." he stopped again, closing his eyes briefly. I could see him gulp, before his dark eyes were parallel to mine again. He shifted, squaring his shoulders. "Max, I lo-"

A piercing, insistent beep coming from his pocket cut him off, and with a groan he rolled to the side, sitting up. I pushed up onto my elbows as he brought his phone to his ear, his legs unfolding from under him as he stood. I watched as he walked a few paces away, just out of hearing distance. His brow furrowed dangerously as he talked to whoever was on the other line.

Confusion, amongst many other things, roiled within me. My mind kept going back to before . . . that one inexplicable second, to be exact. Was he going to say he loved me? I couldn't be sure, and it seemed like I wasn't going to find out after all.

With a sigh Fang slipped the cell phone into his pocket once more, facing away from me. I clumsily made my way to my feet just as he turned back around, his blank mask set into place flawlessly.

"I'm sorry. Something came up. I have to go," he informed me, motioning in the direction of the fire escape. "I'll drive you home."

I nodded, following him down wordlessly. Our surreal moment at passed, leaving us awkward and silent, as was usual these days. I had to clamp down hard on my tongue, so as to not explode. What had happened to us?

I glared out the window the entire car ride, trying not to seem too obviously upset. We were almost to my house when Fang reached across and took my hand, intertwining our fingers easily. If only everything was that way.

"You're all quiet again," he observed, glancing at me.

I shrugged.

"Are you okay?" he asked, tucking a dirty blond strand of hair behind my ear so he could see my face more clearly.

I nodded. Oh how the tables had turned. Since when was I the one not saying anything, as he struggled to make conversation? It seemed to be happening more often than not lately. I didn't like it. It was just another way we were all whacked up and screwy.

I was already halfway out of my seat belt by the time Fang pulled to a stop in front of my house. Not wasting another second I twisted, prepared to duck out of the now gaping door. His hand on my wrist stopped me though, and I turned warily and expectantly.

He tugged on my hand until I leaned closer, his lips brushing against mine gently. I kissed him back, despite how much I just wanted to get away.

"I really am sorry," he murmured. "About _everything_."

I nodded blankly once more, stepping fully onto the sidewalk. I wished more than anything that his apology counted for something . . . but things just didn't work that way in my world. Problems didn't just disappear on a whim. In fact, they usually stuck around for more than they were welcome. I had learned that lesson long ago.

When I poked my head through the front door, everything was dark except for the blue-ish, muted glow coming from the television. Easing the door shut behind me, I padded softly to the couch. Peering over the edge I saw Gazzy lounging out, very much awake. He glanced up as soon as I looked down at him, his blue eyes bright in the shadows. Another mesh of blond curls popped up from the floor, and Angel regarded me with sleepy, opaque eyes.

"You're back," Gazzy stated the obvious, sitting up to make room for Angel, who was crawling onto the sofa beside him. I made my way around, noticing the bed of pillows and blankets Angel had made for herself on the floor. It seemed the two of them were camping out for my arrival.

"Where is everybody?" I asked, picking my way through the destruction. I slumped into the chair adjacent to where my siblings were seated, watching me placidly.

"Aunt Valencia and Mom are upstairs talking. We were taking turns listening in on them, but then Gazzy ruined it," Angel informed me, quick to pin the blame on her older brother. I was proud that they were trying to gain as much information as they could. Normally they probably wouldn't bother, but they knew I would want to know what was going on.

"It's not my fault!" Gazzy insisted hotly, glaring at her. "I can't help my . . . problem."

"Digestive system acting up again?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow as I tried not to laugh at the sheepish look now adorning his face.

"Always," he admitted.

"They were talking about Arizona though, last time we heard," Angel explained. My mood quickly darkened at the reminder. "Aunt Valencia said she didn't have a choice, or else she'd get fired from both jobs."

"She said that the two practices were in agreement about the transfer, or something like that. If she doesn't go back to her old job, then she won't have this one either, and we can't afford that. Her only other option would be to open up her own clinic, since the demand for vets isn't very high in existing ones at this point," Gazzy picked up where Angel left off, obviously quoting word for word what he heard Aunt Val say.

"So it's inevitable then," I said grimly. No matter what I chose, it was either between here or there. There was zero chance of Aunt Val and Ella staying in New York. They were going back to Arizona . . . and they were taking my family with them.

I came to my feet, rubbing a hand over my forehead. "You guys get some rest. I'm going to head to bed."

Without waiting for a response I quietly went up the stairs, ignoring the hushed voices I could hear behind closed doors. When I went into my room, Ella was nowhere to be found. Most likely with Nudge. After all, they wouldn't have much time left together after this.

I could barely force myself to change into different clothes, suddenly overcome with fatigue. By the time I dropped onto my mattress, my eyes were already slipping shut . . .

Just for me to be awakened by a sharp crack. Instantly I shot up in bed, my gaze immediately finding the window. It was similar to the last time I had been woken up like this, the whip-like sound completely identical. This time though, where there had previously been nothing but the sky outside, there was now a looming figure crouched just outside my window.

My face was white as a ghost as I tripped across the dark room, fumbling with the window pane. I couldn't see anything other then the shadowy shape of the person, but I instinctively knew it was the one that had been following me around.

And it seemed they wanted to be found now.

I finally managed to heave the unwilling glass upwards, allowing the guy enough space to squeeze through. I took a few steps back, giving him some room. All the while I crouched down into something resembling a fighting stance, but less obvious. I was on my toes though, ready to knock this guy out if he tried anything funny with me. I may have been out of practice, but that didn't matter. You could take the girl away from the fight, but you couldn't take the fight from within her.

"Who are you?" I demanded, once whoever it was was standing on steady feet. They looked up, raising their hands so they could slip the hood of their head. I peered intently at them, taking in their familiar features.

"Max," they said simply, voice low.

"_Dylan_?" I asked incredulously, though I had had my suspicions all along. There was some part of me though, that had been denying it from the second the thought entered my mind. Dylan couldn't be back. He just couldn't.

"Look," he said hurriedly, sounding agitated and . . . scared. "I know I'm the last person you want to talk to right now. I get that. But I have something important to tell you, and I think you'll want to hear it."

I regarded him warily, not relaxing in the slightest. He took my silence as his cue to continue.

"It's about Jared."

"What about Jared?" I practically growled. He nodded knowingly, and I hated that he had the knowledge to pique my interest automatically. Where Jared was concerned, I definitely had to know what he was so worked up about.

"He didn't really commit suicide . . . He was murdered."

**Authors Note: Anyone expect that? Mhm . . . anybody? I HIGHLY DOUBT IT. Haha (:**

**P.S. What sort of pets do you have? I ask this in honor of the cat I stole from my friend. (I'm not joking..)**


	14. Danger

**Authors Note: I'm tired. I have to get up at five thirty in the morning, then spend the entire day at the pool with my six year old sister. But I'm STILL updating for you. Yes, YOU. That's how much I care. LOVE ME.**

**Chapter Fourteen:**

_**Danger**_

For a split second after that, I couldn't figure out whether to blanch in shock . . . or laugh. I mean, obviously Dylan was a lunatic. Jared committed suicide. They had proven that easily. There wasn't any evidence to suggest otherwise.

The deadly serious, overwhelmingly somber look on his face was what held my guffaws back.

"He . . . what?" I asked slowly, blinking just as languidly in the dim light of my bedroom. The only illumination coming in was from the moon through the gaping window, which allowed a cool breeze to blow in as well.

"Jared didn't kill himself. He was _murdered_," Dylan repeated, sounding impossibly more insistent, as if I was stupid to not see his claim as the truth. My mind was only working at a sluggish pace though. There was too much going on for me to think clearly.

First, Dylan shows up at my bedroom window. Odd? I'd think yes. Especially considering he wasn't even supposed to be in the same state, let alone city. Then he's babbling about Jared's death not being a suicide?

It was too much to comprehend at this late of an hour.

I ran a quaking hand through my hair, jerking the blond strands from where they were previously fluttering in my face. Breathing deeply I started pacing back and forth, wearing a path in the soft carpet. Dylan watched on wordlessly, waiting for me to broach the subject once more.

After a few minutes I turned back to face him, my expression hard. Trying not to betray any emotion in my voice I simply said: "You're crazy."

He sighed, his shoulders dropping. For some reason, the bowed head and utter look of defeat he was wearing made my stomach churn. This wasn't Dylan. I could count on one hand how many times I had seen him back down, most of them lately. What was happening to him? . . . Could it be that he really . . . Was he really changing?

For good?

I shook that thought away quickly, before I allowed it to take root in my mind. I couldn't let something like that set in too much. Dylan was Dylan. He always would be. Despite the facade he put on from time to time, he was too twisted into his own messy game to be untangled. If he was willing to take the time to try to fix his life, then by all means, let him. I wasn't planning on buying into his sainthood anytime soon.

"Max, please," he pleaded suddenly, lifting his head once more. A beautiful mix of blue and green met my dark brown eyes, emotions swimming in the sea of his irises like the billowing sails of tiny individual ships.

"Dylan," I said in resignation, biting my lip to keep from giving him a pitying look. "What you're suggesting . . . It's impossible."

"Nothing's impossible! You of all people should know that," he hissed vehemently, sounding more like himself than he had in a long time. I locked my gaze with his once more, taking in the storm now raging in his eyes as his entire expression darkened.

"I know you don't want to believe Jared killed himself, but you have to accept it. We all do. We all _did_. You have to move on. Someone else killing him seems like a good excuse, but you've never had to make excuses for Jared before. Now's not the ideal time either," I said softly.

To my surprise, Dylan started laughing. It wasn't a 'oh my, you're so funny!' laugh. It was more of a bitter, 'you're so ignorant' laugh. In further proof of this, he shook his head sadly as his torso shook lightly. I just stared at him, waiting for an explanation.

"You think I'm doing this because I can't find closure? You think I'm in denial about this whole thing?" he demanded, become startlingly serious again. I could barely keep up with his drastic mood swings, ever changing and quick.

"Well . . . aren't you?" I asked uncertainly, shuffling my bare feet awkwardly.

"No. I'm not," he stated harshly, his voice low and guttural. "And if I wasn't absolutely sure about this, do you think I would have come running back to _you _of all people? I know how much you hate me, Max. You _should _after everything I've done to you. I wouldn't risk this unless I knew there was something more. And you know that, too."

I groaned, walking slowly to my bed. With fatigue and stress washing through me I sank to a sitting position, leaning against my pillow. Dylan stayed where he was, standing rigid and tall, as his shadow cast a long line across the floor.

"So then tell me how you're so sure of it," I said, staring at my hands. It was a few moments before he started speaking, seeming to pick up on a story he had rehearsed multiple times in anticipation of our transaction.

"I first got a few suspicions when I really stopped to think about it. I know I didn't know Jared as well as you at that point, but we had grown up together. We were brothers . . ." he stopped for seemingly no reason here, clearing his throat. I didn't dare look up in the case that he was getting emotional. "He wouldn't have committed suicide, even though he did lose Sarah and Ian. He just wouldn't. He was way too strong for that. He would have pulled through in the end, especially considering he still had you to watch after. Max, you were more of a sibling to him than I was. He loved you. We both know he wouldn't have just left you to fend for yourself."

"That's it?" I inquired, glaring at my lap now, as tears threatened to burn in my eyes at the thought of Jared. "You're basing your entire theory on how well you may or may not have known him?"

"Like I said, that's just what got me thinking. Eventually I started looking into it, you know? Trying to figure out what exactly they found. Basically, the police report labeled it a suicide because there were no signs of struggle or odd behavior displayed in the victim, and because he was holding the gun in his hand when they found him."

My breathing grew shallow as I listened to Dylan's account, my hands trembling more and more as he spoke. Hearing about Jared was only making the memory more painful, especially all the tiny details I had neglected to learn. I knew the bare minimum of what I needed to know.

Dylan was bringing back the catastrophic time though, just after I found out Jared was dead. I had been practically catatonic, dazed and unresponsive. Looking at it realistically, Jared was the only reason I was alive today. Without him, I didn't know what could have possibly happened to my family and I. The blow his eternal absence delivered was enough to send me spiralling into a state of downward shock.

And now it seemed just after I was healing from the wound it had delivered, here was Dylan, striking it open once more.

"And?" I prodded vacantly, unsure of if I really wanted to know at all. Maybe not knowing was better in this case. They didn't say ignorance was bliss for nothing. It had its purposes.

"I started asking around, investigating things they didn't feel the need to examine," he continued to explain, sounding as if he was struggling to maintain a calm exterior as well as I was. "At first, not a lot surfaced. Most everybody seemed to prefer sticking solidly to the suicide story. Eventually I talked to some nurses who were stationed the time he was killed. I asked them what I had been asking everybody else: if anything strange had happened anytime close to that, or if anyone had been into see Jared. Just like all the witnesses before them, they said no.

"I was leaving, this time for good, when a woman in the lobby approached me. She said her husband had been in for knee surgery when Jared died, and now he was back because he was having problems. She said a man had come around eight with some kind of uniform on, and got on the same elevator as her. Jared and her husband were on the same floor, so when she got off, so did the man.

"He went into Jared's room, Max. And I bet you anything, when he came out, Jared was dead."

I let his story sink in, mulling it over in my mind as best as I could. A few red flags jumped out at me as I processed his words, and I didn't hesitate to say so.

"There are some problems with that. First of all, why didn't the woman say anything to the police when she found out Jared was dead? And how did this strange guy have enough time to escape after he supposedly shot Jared? It doesn't make any sense."

"The woman was just saying goodbye to her husband. They lived a few hours away, and she had to get back to their kids or something like that. She must have left before Jared was killed, and then by time she came back, the investigation was probably over and done with," Dylan answered automatically, as if he knew I was going to pose such a question.

"Alright . . . Well what about the man getting away? How did he do that?" I inquired insistently, raising an eyebrow as I finally tilted my head up to look at him. He was staring out the window as he spoke, his eyes narrowed.

"I don't know for sure. There are many ways. If I had to guess, I'd say he got out of that room and into another like a bat out of hell right after that, then hung out around the hospital long enough for him to look relatively inconspicuous as he left. Obviously this guy is smart, Max. He knew what he was doing."

"Okay, I get it. But did it ever cross your mind that you're still wrong? There's no way for you to prove this, Dylan. You can believe what you want . . . but let's face it: you have no proof," I insisted, frowning to myself. He was raising doubts within myself that I wasn't comfortable with.

This time he finally turned to look at me, his turquoise colored eyes cloudy, but seemingly sincere. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, holding in the air for me to see clearly.

"Did I forget to mention this?" he inquired, cocking his head to the side as he smirked in triumph at me. It was by a small margin, though.

Lazily he tossed it to me, and I reflexively caught it between two fingers, bringing it down into my lap. Cautiously I unfolded the wrinkled sheet, smoothing out the many creases. The faded words written in jagged black letters were worn, like they had been pored over endlessly for some time. I squinted in the dim light to read the message they formed.

There was no greeting or closing. Just simply a string of words that accumulated into something that forced a lot of my thoughts to click into place . . .

_Clever of you to figure me out. But if you think this is the end, you're wrong. I'll be back, but be rest assured that you're not the one I'm coming for this time around. The game has begun._

I let my hands go limp, turning my cheek to the threat laying in my lap. Feeling sick I folded the paper in half, erasing the words from sight. I could practically feel the acidic bile churning in the pit of my stomach.

Because Dylan was _right_.

"So what does that mean?" I demanded, my hands balling into fists. Carefully Dylan treaded towards me, plucking the paper from where it rested against my hip. He swiftly folded it back into its regular position, stuffing it carelessly into his pocket.

"It means that whoever killed Jared is going to strike again . . . and that's the entire reason I'm here. I mean, under any other circumstances I wouldn't have bothered you. I just would have let you keep believing Jared's death was his own fault. I think you can understand that."

I nodded, rubbing the heels of my palms against my eyes.

"But after I got this, I knew I had to come. I had to warn you . . . You're in danger, Max. Grave danger," Dylan whispered through the quiet that had consumed the room, his words seeming louder and less hushed because of it.

"Why?" I asked in confusion, peering up at him. His silhouette was dark against the white moonlight streaming through the window. With his honey blond hair and green-blue eyes he appeared to be an angel gone bad.

"Because I think he's after _you _next."

**Authors Note: Yeah. So . . . review? (:**

**P.S. Favorite TV show?**


	15. Future

**Authors Note: I honestly have no idea why my updating is so blahhh. Especially since it's summer. Especially with how I usually am with updating. I got out of my writing slump . . . momentarily . . . now it's back again. Whoo! I'm going to try to write after I post this though. Wish me luck!**

**Chapter Fifteen:**

_**Future**_

As you can imagine, I wasn't getting much sleep after that. Not any, I'm pretty positive, if how dead I was the next morning was any indication of that. I don't think my eyes closed once through the night; wide open and glassy as the sun rose in a blossom of color and light.

Not cool.

I did manage to roll out of bed though, my feet heavy and my shoulders slumped. It felt like I was carrying around lead blocks, such was the weight being exerted on my body; an illusion being cast by my fatigued mind.

With half-lidded eyes I stumbled to the bathroom, closing the door softly before shedding my clothes. The warm spray from the shower was enough to get a few neurons synapsing in my brain, sending a tickling sensation of energy through my veins. It wasn't such a struggle to keep my eyes from closing now, which was always a plus.

I had a feeling I would be needing lots more coffee after this, though.

While my fingers were blindly groping for a towel to dry off with, I allowed my memory to stretch back and view the night before. Had it all been just one terrible dream? Only if I was lucky. I had a feeling though, that everything had happened just as I remembered.

Dylan had left just shortly after revealing his true motive for coming to me. We hadn't had much exchange after he had shared his thoughts towards this mystery murderers next move. Aka: killing me. As if I didn't already have enough to worry about, let's add psychotic serial killers to the list. I'm _sure _I could deal.

We hadn't really agreed to meet again, but I was sure I would see him around the city. He had, along with his other warnings, informed me that he would be watching out for my back. Why he was doing this, I couldn't bring myself to ask. I was too shocked and stressed and downright tired at that point to really care.

Besides, a tiny part of me had felt grateful at least _somebody _was looking out for me, even if it was my deranged ex-boyfriend who had tried to kill me once himself. Details, details. They were unimportant on a larger scale.

I myself was still trying to wrap my head around this all. In truth, somebody after my blood wasn't that surprising. I was one of the most notorious street fighters in recent history. I had made a lot of enemies in my time on top. Street fighting in itself was a nasty business. No surprise then, that most of the fighters were nasty as well . . . and more than perfectly capable of ending my life, if they so chose it.

The only matter was _who_?

Which, of course, was the one question that eluded me completely. It was narrowed down a bit, because whoever it was had to have some personal vendetta against myself _and _Jared. There were obvious people, like Scott. He was the one who had administered the crushing blow that had forced Jared into an early retirement from fighting, and then I had not so nicely kicked his butt in return.

There was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind though, that immediately wrote him off. He wasn't smart enough, to put it blatantly. In the end, he acted like a tough guy, but I don't think he was really capable of murder.

The problem was, there were a bunch of others that _were_. It was only raising the level of stress I was already feeling though, so I decided to forget it for the moment and just let the day carry out itself.

And knowing me, that would probably lead to problems itself.

Once I was dressed and had run a brush through my tangled hair, my stomach began making its demands now that I had enough space in my mind to think about it. It grumbled like the engine of an old car, making gurgling noises that threatened to explode. Without wasting any more time I headed towards the kitchen.

Mercifully, it seemed that Aunt Valencia was gone, so I didn't have to face her just yet either. Mom was sitting at the table though, rifling through some papers. She looked up when I came in, but didn't make any comments.

Good.

Angel was happily eating a bowl of cereal, milk sloshing off her spoon as she waved to me. I smiled in return, swiping a napkin from the counter and handing it to her. She grinned, unaffected, and cleaned up her mess.

Gazzy was sitting across from her, polishing off the remainder of what looked to be a concoction of different things sandwiched between two pieces of toast, most likely of his own creation. When I turned my back to them to browse the refrigerator, he was suddenly at my side, ducking his head so he could see into the fridge as well.

The kid was a bottomless pit.

Angel chirped to me as I whipped up a batch of scrambled eggs, the sizzling from the frying pan attracting Gazzy's attention. I nodded my head in acknowledgement before he could ask, seeing the bright look on his face.

I was just cleaning the last particle of yellow from my plate when Ella breezed through the front door, looking like a mixture of sadness and content. She dropped her bag in the doorway, kicking off her shoes as she went. It was a habit she had fallen into after being around us so much. When she first came, it was a miracle if she didn't straighten them to perfection when she took them off. Our laziness was rubbing off on her, much to Aunt Val's distaste. I preferred to think of it as less work, but we all have our opinions.

"Hey Els," I greeted her as I passed to go to the sink. I set my plate in the basin, flicking the tap on. A steady stream of cold water rushed forward, carrying away the last debris on my plate. I set it quickly into the dishwasher, turning back to face the others.

"Did you have fun with Nudge?" Mom inquired, shuffling all the official looking papers she had been handling into a neat stack. From seemingly nowhere she procured a slim blue folder, placing them all inside.

"Yeah," Ella replied, somewhat wistfully. "We were both really sad, though. I mean, that's the last time I'm going to be able to spend the night with her for a long time. We'll be back in Arizona soon, and I can't exactly drive to her house from there."

I tried to remain emotionless, but I'm afraid the stony expression on my face won out instead. For once though, nobody seemed to be watching for my reaction.

"Speaking of which," Mom began, clearing her throat so that her voice carried a little more. She still talked so quietly that it was hard to hear, "I have something to tell all of you."

Oh great. More news. After the last couple days I had, that's _exactly _what I needed.

Mom waited a few seconds, glancing around at all of us. When she deemed that she had our undivided attention, she continued with: "Apparently things are going to be moving a lot faster than we anticipated. Valencia needs to be back at the other clinic no later than Wednesday, which I'm sure you can figure out is only three days from now."

_Th-three _days_?_ I spluttered to myself, stuttering in my own mind.

Her words were met with silence by all, none of us knowing what exactly needed to be said. Eventually I got my wits about me, and was able to form a coherent enough thought to speak properly.

"So you're saying we have to pack up all our things and be in Arizona in the next three days?" I demanded, my anger spiking. Why was this happening so suddenly? I needed more time to think about this. All of this.

"Essentially yes. What's really going to happen is Valencia will take most of the things with her on the first trip, along with the kids. I'll stay behind and handle the moving of all the bigger furniture, since I'm not really at a deadline," she explained, one lithe finger tapping on the worn surface of the table.

"That's it then? No more discussion?" I seethed, my fingernails pricking my palms as I clenched my fists together tightly.

"For the rest of us, no. For you . . . well, as much as I hate to even think about this sweetie, you're eighteen now. If you want to stay in New York . . . you can," she murmured, her eyes shimmering with unshed moisture.

For the first time the option seemed real and valid.

"I know you probably need more time to think about it, but you really don't have that much to waste. By the end of the day you need to come to a decision. We're going to start packing right now," Mom said, motioning for the others to get moving as her speech neared its end.

Am I the only one who thinks this is all moving incredibly fast? _Too _fast. And completely unfairly at that, which wasn't a total surprise, when you stopped to think about it.

Ella was the first from the room, having been closest to the door. Angel and Gazzy followed at a much slower pace, sharing looks every few seconds as they went. Mom was just about to disappear after them, when I stopped her.

"I'm staying."

In that one inexplicable second, I really didn't even have to think about it. It had only been a small amount of time, but there had been a huge build-up to what I would choose. I thought there would be a heck of a lot more back and forth, that's for sure.

Another part of me knew though, that if I stopped to think, then rethink, and re-rethink my decision, I was never going to end up anywhere at all. There was too much at stake here, but too much at stake there as well.

My future was here though, in New York. Going to Arizona would only keep me drowning in the past. As much as I loved Angel and Gazzy, and as much as I would miss _all _of them, my life needed to take a different direction. I hated to think such a thing, but with them gone, I could worry less about everybody else and focus more on _me_.

For the longest time I could never look more than a few days into the future. The most important thing was getting by in the present. Now, without having the burdens of caring for an entire family, I could look into the coming days and weeks and months; and I could be the person _I _wanted to be.

And being just Max seemed good enough a start.

**Authors Note: Thoughts? I'd love to hear them. Drop me a review and I'll love you forever.**

**P.S. Favorite social networking site? Hahah. Facebook, Twitter, Myspace, etc.? Personally, I'm torn between Facebook and Twitter ;) I still love the first, but Twitter is just the greatest invention ever! I've had 'exchanges' (meaning not full conversations) with so many bands/musicians or actor/actresses I like. It's pretty great. Like today. Any of you seen the new MTV show Teen Wolf? Yeah. Got a reply from Tyler Posey, who's the main character on that. YEAH I WAS EXCITED.**


	16. Mistaken

******Authors Note: My up********d********ating is so . . . mediocre. (Because really it's not as bad as I like to think it is)**

******READ IT BECAUSE YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO!**

******Chapter Sixteen:**

**__****Mistaken**

_The very tips of my toes skimmed the ledge of the rocky outcropping; just barely breaching the deep void beneath me. The distance to the ground was dizzying, causing me to sway dangerously as I craned to see the dusty, brown, barren desert below. My arms were spread out at my sides, fingers splayed wide like that would help me keep my balance if I were to pitch forward into the unknown._

_I squinted into the bright light of the sun, whose perch at the highest point in the sky was blinding with a fiery intensity that made it hard to breath. It bobbed and shimmered in my vision, floating in the surreal sea of deep blue water that was the sky._

_Behind me the silent, inky enclosure of the cave beckoned to me. It's dirt floor and smooth, red walls seemed much safer than the unidentifiable in front of me. All I had to do was take a few steps back, and all the potential danger I was in would be gone._

_An unfamiliar pressure on my back kept me glued to the spot though, feet immobile. I could feel the weight of it there, pushing me onward like an actual animate object. With each small breeze that blew towards me, they rustled and twitched._

_Wings._

_They were slightly folded; the span of them too large for the open mouth I was standing at. I could feel the soft feathers rubbing against my bare skin though, poking and prodding. A voice inside my head whispered to me; urging me on._

Fly_, it demanded in a hushed, muted tone. _Fly, fly, fly_._

How, how, how_? was what I wanted to scream, but no other sound, even from myself, reached my ears. It was as if I was deaf to the entire world, my ears filled with an impenetrable amount of cotton. The only noises I heard were from my mind; my own thoughts and that voice that continued to order me._

Fly_, it said. _Fly_._

_Then my limbs were moving, without my conscious permission. I was stepping back, without taking my gaze from the horizon in front of me. At first I felt relief, thinking I was giving up. But the only thing I was giving was _in_. In to the nagging voice in my head that was telling me to spread my wings and go with the flow of the wind._

_I panicked, brain whirring to stop my arms from where they began pumping at my sides as I ran, and my legs as they crouched down; ready to take a running leap into the formidable sky ahead of me._

_It happened anyway._

_Before I knew it, there was no hard ground beneath my feet. For a single, split second in time I was suspended without motion; hanging in nothing but air. That didn't last as long as I would have hoped though. In the blink of an eye I was free falling, slicing through the seemingly calm atmosphere even though my heart was racing like it was the exact opposite._

_Fly. I was supposed to fly. Not fall._

_My wings wouldn't work though. They just twisted painfully on my back, completely useless as the ground -and my impending doom it seemed- grew ever closer. I struggled to gain some sort of upper-hand, but it was a lost cause. I was losing the battle before it even started._

_There was nothing I could do but try not to scream as I squeezed my eyes shut tight and hoped it wouldn't hurt too bad when I hit the ground._

And hit the ground I did.

My breath was knocked out of me harshly as I impacted with the carpet, which offered no cushion much to my distaste. I lay on my back, gasping in breaths as quietly as I could. I had a feeling the thump my body had made as it came in contact with the floor was enough to wake at least Ella up, though.

Sure enough, not a moment after I had thought this, she began stirring across the room. With a shake of her matted head she sat up, rubbing her eyes. Yawning she peered down at me, confused and groggy.

"Max?" she inquired sleepily. A bewildered look leaped across her face as her thought process caught up to her a little more. "What are you doing on the floor?"

I winced a bit, sitting up. Rubbing my head I looked up at my bed, where my blankets were a tangled mess; half off the mattress. My pillow, as it was, was somehow on the other side of the room, near the door.

"I fell off when I was sleeping," I explained. It seemed the most likely guess. Besides, with the dream I had been having, I'm sure I had been thrashing around at least a little bit; if the placement of my bed was any indication of that, or my position now.

"Oh," she muttered, her mouth gaping wide as another heavy sigh passed her lips. Without another word she collapsed back onto her pillow, rolling so that her back was facing me. Within a few seconds her breathing relaxed and she was asleep once more.

Not feeling the least bit tired anymore, I peeked at the clock. It was around five thirty. Not exactly the prime time for waking in the morning, but good enough for me. And after yet another strange wings dream I was anything but ready to fall back asleep, lest something like it happen again.

Pushing myself to my knees I wrestled the blankets back onto my bed, tossing my pillow on it as well once I managed to clamber to my feet properly. I opened the door as swiftly and softly as I could, creeping out into the hallway without disturbing any other inhabitants.

Angel and Gazzy shared a room just beside mine, so I stopped outside their door. Placing my ear up against the wood I listened for signs of life, but it seemed that my accident had escaped their notice. Fighting down the urge to go in and check on them I turned away, heading for the stairs.

To my surprise, a soft glow was already coming from the kitchen. As I approached the golden arch it created loomed larger, until I was squinting in the doorway from its brightness. After my vision had adjusted I saw Aunt Val sitting at the table, staring out the window blankly. She didn't seem to notice me until I fully stepped forward, the floorboards creaking under my weight.

"Good morning, Max," she greeted me somewhat cheerfully, trying for a smile. I could see the troubled look in her eyes, though. Something was definitely bothering her, even if she was trying to hide it. "You're up awfully early."

"Couldn't sleep anymore," I offered up as an excuse, taking a seat across from her. "Didn't you hear a big thump?"

Her dark brown eyes -almost a mirror of mine, actually- focused more directly on me. "Actually no," she said with a light laugh. "I've been kind of . . . spacing for awhile. Just thinking some things over."

"Like what?" I inquired. I was doing my best to have a normal conversation with her. After all, it wasn't her fault she had to go back to Arizona and steal away my family with her. Deep down I knew she wouldn't be doing it if she didn't absolutely have to.

"Everything. Work. Moving. The kids. You in particular," she admitted, smiling sheepishly. A tendril of curly hair fell into her face, and she brushed it back with a practiced ease, tucking it behind her ear.

"What about me?" I asked, my brow furrowing.

"Your mom told me what you decided to do."

Ahh. Of course.

"Are you mad?" I managed to say after a slight moment of hesitation. Despite my anger towards her before, I honestly cared about her opinion. She was my aunt, after all. I was losing her, too.

To my utter surprise, she laughed.

"Mad? Why would I be mad?" she demanded, shaking her head like I was completely silly for thinking such a thing. "If anything, I'm proud of you, Max. You're making decisions for yourself; for your future. You see what's at stake by leaving here, and you recognize that it's too much to lose. Most people _my _age can't make informed decisions like that. So yes, I'm very proud of you."

Okay, so maybe I was glowing a little bit by the end of that.

"Besides, I understand. At least I think I do, so forgive me if I'm wrong. And it may me hard to believe, but I can relate. Your mother and I grew up in Arizona. Did she ever tell you that?" Aunt Valencia went on, a sparkle in her eyes as she spoke.

"No, she never said anything about that," I replied, curious.

"Well we did. Then, when I was about twelve and she was probably ten, our father got a job offer in upstate New York. It was too much of a good deal to refuse, so that summer we packed up all our things and moved across the country."

"That must have been hard," I commented, biting my lip.

"It was," she acknowledged, running a hand through her hair. "But we all managed. After some time, everybody seemed to find a place. Dad did well at his new job, Mom bonded with the neighbors and Rebecca made so many friends it was unbelievable . . ."

"What about you?" I prodded, even more interested in her tale.

"I never found my niche, to say the last," she continued wistfully, staring off in the distance like she was lost in the memories of it all. "I couldn't wait until I turned eighteen. As soon as I did I would be _gone_. There wasn't anything in the world that I wanted more than to be in Arizona again. Nothing."

"You got what you wanted then, didn't you?"

"Of course. Everything worked out flawlessly. I went back to Arizona where I felt I truly belonged, and your mother stayed in New York; the place that she loved. It all panned out for everybody, really. The point I'm trying to make though, is that I don't want you to feel the way I did," she said solemnly, her gaze locking with mine once more.

"What do you mean?" I asked in confusion.

"New York is your home. You don't want to leave, and I don't want to force you to either. As much as I would love for you to come with us, you're at an age where you can choose the life that you want to live. That's something I neither have, nor want, control over. It's all up to _you_."

And that's how, in the wee hours of the morning when nobody else had yet to awaken, I felt for the first time that I had _completely _made the right decision.

**- }{ -**

Fang was really starting to piss me off. _Again_. All I wanted to do was tell him the good news; that I was staying in the city. It made perfect sense then, that he was absolutely nowhere to be found, as per usual.

I called his phone a million times. Left numerous messages. I even went around to Iggy's place to see if he was lurking there.

"So you haven't seen him?" I asked helplessly, leaning heavily on the door frame to Iggy's apartment. The blind boy in question stood with his hand propped on the door, shaking his head sadly.

"Sorry, Max. He hasn't been over in the past few days. I talked to him this morning though. He said he had some lunch thing with his parents right about now. That's probably why he hasn't called you back," Iggy insisted emphatically. I felt a little better after that. I mean, it seemed logical enough.

"Yeah, you're probably right. I just . . . I shouldn't have to make a habit out of having to hunt him down. He was always there before, and now it's like he's going into hiding or something. Has he said anything to you?"

Oh God. Was I really having a heartfelt conversation about my feelings towards Fang with _Iggy_? Of all the people in the world I could talk to, it had to be _him_? I was officially going bonkers. Something was_not _right with my head.

"No," Iggy responded, a little too quickly. Some emotion flickered across his face, but it was gone before I could identify it. Suspicious, much? I think yes. "I'm sure everything's fine. You'll tell him you're staying, which I'm really happy about by the way, and he'll be so excited he'll never leave you alone again. Then you'll just get sick of being joined at the hip."

Only if I was lucky.

I left Iggy's shortly after that, still feeling a little bit off about the entire situation. Obviously he knew something I didn't. I could tell by his reaction to my questions. At the moment though, I had too much on my plate to really dwell on that, which was fortunate for him.

Deciding that I needed to get my mind off of Fang for awhile, I drove Aunt Val's car (which she had graciously let me borrow) into a shopping district area. They had a few good restaurants, and I was sufficiently starving at that point.

I parked a few blocks away, then walked into the mix of things. Thankfully, there weren't that many people out and about, so I was relatively safe from any claustrophobia that could possibly kick in. For about fifteen minutes or so I browsed around, thinking about my dining options.

My hand was on the knob of some random burger place when a flash of something through the window of the restaurant beside it caught my eye. Cautiously and surreptitiously I walked by, examining the person from my peripheral vision.

The building itself was fancy, seeming like the kind of place fit exactly for them. Besides, I couldn't mistake the back of that dark head. It was Fang alright, with his parents just as Iggy had suggested. They had a guest, though. A red-headed guest.

My first, immediate thought was Brigid. Mrs. King adored that woman, and despite her older age, would love nothing more than for her and Fang to get together. Fang was getting up though, offering his hand to her. When she stood, she was slimmer and just over-all different than Brigid.

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I backpedaled, crouching in the doorway of a shop a few feet away. I only had to wait a few agonizing moments before Fang was stepping onto the sidewalk, his friend on his arm.

At first I refused to believe what my eyes were so obviously seeing. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. He wouldn't do that to me; to _anybody_. Especially after everything we had gone through to get to this point. The bitter taste in my mouth wouldn't go away though, and I knew I wasn't mistaken.

It was Fang. Hand in hand with another girl. A girl I knew all too well. And he was wrapping an arm around her waist, holding her close. And she was leaning against him, grinning like she was just oh so lucky. Then he was brushing her hair away from her face. He was kissing her, right there in front of his parents. In front of everybody.

He was kissing _Lissa_, like he had never loved anybody more in the entire world.

******Authors Note: Uhm uh WHAT? Is Fang . . . cheating? Or is there more to this situation then meets the eye? Ooohh. This will most likely lead to q uestions I can't answer for the sake of the future of this story, but REVIEW ANYWAY BECAUSE, ONCE AGAIN, YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO! DO IT DO IT DO IT!**

******P.S. What's your favorite FF of mine, if you've read any of the other ones? (:**


	17. Betrayal

**Authors Note: I felt it wasn't very fair to leave you guys with that for too long, and I probably wasn't going to get any more reviews, so HERE YOU GO YOU'RE WELCOME.**

**Chapter Seventeen:**

_**Betrayal**_

It took all my will power to turn the other cheek and stay where I was. My emotions were conflicted and tangled in a giant jumble of unease and betrayal. Mostly betrayal. I was caught between wanting to show myself (and most likely inflict physical pain on both Fang and Lissa), and wanting to run the other direction.

I couldn't forget what I had seen though, no matter how much I wanted to.

So I stayed huddled where I was, enough time passing that they would hopefully be gone. When I finally forced myself to raise my head, there was no one familiar in sight. Gratefully I stretched to my feet, trembling all over. From across the street an old man was staring at me like I was a lunatic.

Just what I needed.

I gave him a steely glare, with enough menace to make him shrink backwards before hobbling away. I could only keep the anger up for a few seconds though, before my indifferent mask crumbled into oblivion.

My mind kept replaying the image of him and her over and over again; constantly looping again and again. Their hands intertwined. His arm around her. The look on his face. Their lips meeting. _My heartbreak_.

I was shaking all over by that point, in a daze. Black spots danced across my vision, and I swayed on my feet, barely able to walk in a straight line. Was this what it felt like to be drunk? Because to any normal passerby, that's probably what I looked like. The sick feeling of dread in my stomach was consuming every particle of my being though, and it was all I could do to manage to navigate my way back to Aunt Valencia's car safely.

My hands quaked as I placed them on the steering wheel. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment to gather my bearings. When I opened them again, my head was clear enough that I could see properly. Slowly my foot bore down on the gas pedal, and I began the drive back home. I didn't know what I would say when I got back, to explain my current appearance. I just needed to get away from that demonic space.

As I drove, bitter thoughts washed through my mind. Memories of Fang. The first time we met, when he had saved me at gunpoint. His face when he had walked in on one of my mom's episodes, and the ensuing kiss that had followed. Our huge showdown as Maximum and The Shadow. The support he had given me at National's. All the times I had seen him angry, and happy, and emotionless, and thoughtful, and sad, and . . . loving.

And it had all been a lie. _All _of it.

How had I been so stupid? He had never cared about me. I was probably just a dumb pet project to him; something to keep him entertained. Why would someone like _him _ever love someone like _me_? His ideals couldn't be that different from his parents. I was probably the lowest of the low to him. Scum. _Nothing_. He had just proven that, after all.

I sniffed, swallowing thickly. The moisture that had been building up in my eyes rained down now, spilling over onto my cheeks. Each individual drop burned more than the last as they combined into one torrential river down my face, spilling into my lap. My shoulders heaved, and my vision blurred so much that I could only see fuzzy fractures of the road before me.

Knowing it really wasn't safe for someone in my condition to be driving, I dried my eyes long enough to pull to the curb. Once I killed the engine, the tears resumed as before, bursting forth with even more fervor. I cried and I cried and I cried.

With each second that ticked by I felt even more idiotic and stupid. I never would have taken myself to be so naive and clueless. Because of course, everything made so much more sense now; like how he was gone all the time, and how whenever he actually _was _with me, he always had to disappear somewhere else in a hurry.

Now I know it was to be with her.

It seemed like hours before my eyes ceased to produce liquid, and even then I was hiccuping so badly I could barely catch my breath. I knew I needed to stop though. That cheating bastard didn't deserve my tears. Not even one drop of them. I shouldn't even warrant him an ounce of my anguish, either. It seemed that despite that, I couldn't control the ache in my chest though.

I had trusted him with everything I had, and in the end I was the one left to look like a fool because of it. It was my fault, though . . .

I should have known better than to trust a boy who had no shame in beating a girl in a fight.

With that final thought, the hatred set in. Who did he think he was? Where did he get the audacity to do such a thing to me? In that moment, with such furious animosity, I could have taken on ten of him at one time, and beaten them all to a bloody pulp. In fact, I would have loved nothing more than to be given the opportunity to do so.

But seeing as that wasn't going to happen, I had to be satisfied with gripping the steering wheel so hard it almost cracked beneath my hands, and speeding dangerously through the streets towards home. Admittedly, that wasn't my finest idea, but the adrenaline now pumping through my veins ebbed at the thrill of going so fast. During those moments, I lived for the squeal of tires on asphalt, and the smoking, black skid marks they left in their wake.

Screw Nicholas King, and his entire family for that matter. I hated them all. Let them peacefully live out the rest of their sheltered lives, with all their riches and fake friends. I could care less. I was just a stupid girl that fell under Fang's charm. I wouldn't make that mistake again, you can count on that.

Forcing myself to calm down, I slowed to a healthier speed limit. I only had a few minutes left before I arrived home, and I needed to look less like a crazed lunatic by that time. Taking deep, even breaths I maneuvered the streets, feeling my heart rate dull each second that passed.

By the time I parked in front of my now familiar house, I -hopefully- appeared just as normal. Even so, I took one last breath to recollect myself before I hopped onto the sidewalk, languidly strutting towards the door. There was no reason to worry everybody else. They didn't need to know what a huge jerk Fang was just yet.

I was just opening the screen door when a sudden wave of anxiety hit me, taking away some of the chagrin, just to replace it with an overwhelming sorrow. I could already feel my fingers beginning to tremble again, with the combination of spite and despondency.

I had a feeling this was only the beginning of my whirlwind emotions towards him.

But then of course, as if my day couldn't get any more exciting, the doorknob flew from beneath my hand, as the door was thrown open from the other side. Aunt Valencia was now standing on the stoop in front of me, looking overall harried and anxious.

"Oh thank goodness you're back," she breathed, wiping a hand down the side of her face as she heaved a sigh of relief. There was a look in her chocolate brown eyes that made me instantly wary.

"What happened?" I demanded, shoving past her into the house. "Is someone hurt?"

"No, everybody's fine," she insisted, following after me as I streaked through the living room before halting to count heads. Angel and Gazzy were sitting on the couch, faces bent together. Ella was just coming down the stairs, and Mom was kneeling on the floor shoving what looked like clothes into a suitcase.

"Then what's going on?" I yelled, rounding on Aunt Val. She met my gaze somewhat steadily, running a hand through her already haywire hair.

"Something came up. They need me back in Arizona sooner than expected. We have to leave. _Today_. As soon as possible," she explained, already walking away to do something else. I followed her progress with my eyes, taking in the pile of bags already in the corner.

"Wait, what?"

Everything was collectively happening way too fast for me. I had already peaked my emotional threshold for that day. This couldn't be happening. I couldn't handle this right now. Anytime but _now_.

"Nudge's mom is here with the van," Ella proclaimed from where she was peering out the window. The curtain swung back into place as she let it fall from her hands, turning to stare back at the rest of us.

"Okay, good. Good. Start taking the bags out. Try to fit as much as you can in the trunk. Then start filling up the back seat. The airport isn't too far away, so we won't have to be in the car that long," Aunt Valencia ordered, looking -if it was even possible- more frazzled than she had a second ago.

"Angel and Gazzy's things are all ready," Mom announced, hefting the suitcase she had been packing up. Without another word she followed Ella outside, limply tugging along the case with her.

I simply stood in the middle of the room, at a total loss for words.

"Max," Angel said in a small voice, approaching me slowly. She stuck her tiny hand in mine, holding it tightly. Gazzy did the same on my other side, blue eyes wide and slightly frightened as he stared up at me.

"You guys are leaving already?" I croaked, unable to think of anything but the obvious to say.

"We're not going to see you for a really, really, really long time, are we?" Gazzy asked solemnly, looking somber and so much older than twelve. It almost made me cry for the second time that day. Almost.

In a flurry, thoughts crashed down on me like a tidal wave. "_As much as I hate to even think about this sweetie, you're eighteen now. If you want to stay in New York . . . you can" . . . But could I really leave Angel and Gazzy? . . . But could I really leave _Fang_? . . . "You're not moving all the way to damn Arizona. You _can't_" . . . My future was here though, in New York. Going to Arizona would only keep me drowning in the past. "I don't want to leave."_

The funny thing about life is things change.

"Aunt Val," I said softly, then with greater force. I called her name as I walked to the door, from where I could see her hefting bags into Nudge's mom's car. After a moment or two she turned to me, a questioning look on her face.

"I'm coming with you."

She held up a finger, motioning for me to wait. I sighed, leaning against the door frame. After exchanging a few words with Ella she jogged up the sidewalk, stopping just at the first step. I stared down at her as blankly and unemotionally as I could

"What did you say, Max? I couldn't hear you from over there."

"I said," I repeated, "I'm coming with you."

"To the airport? Well, I would imagine so. I figured you'd want as much time with Angel and Gazzy as you could get," she replied, looking bewildered. I shook my head impatiently, running a hand through my dark blond hair.

"That's not what I meant," I insisted, turning my face away for a moment. I stared up into the sky, where the sun was shining brightly, like it didn't have a care in the world. The entire atmosphere was picture perfect blue and I swear there were birds chirping in the distance. From some ways down the horizon though, I could see shades of gray beginning to develop. A storm was likely on its way. How fitting.

"I'm coming with you. To Arizona."

**Authors Note: I seriously wonder how I managed to make this chapter as long as it was. Meh. Guess I'm good at rambling! I thought it was a good place to abandon you in suspense, though.**

**YOU'RE WELCOME AGAIN! ;)**

**Maybe . . . just maybe . . . if I get more reviews than I did for the last chapter, however many that is, I'll update super-ish soon-ish again! Do we have a deal?**

**P.S. Any of you guys ever talked to anybody famous (I use the term famous lightly. Generally just anyone you admire or whatever that has somewhat of a following.)? 'Cause I can give you a list of people that I have :D**


	18. Wasted

**Authors Note: I'm super sorry guys! I totally meant to update, but I'm SUPER busy right about now. I have a job . . . sort of. So it's literally taking practically ALL my time. But anyway, here's your lame update.**

**Chapter Eighteen:**

_**Wasted**_

As it so happened, my accompanying them was absolutely no hindrance to the schedule they were on. All I had to do was run upstairs and grab all my things. I had everything packed already, seeing as I was originally planning on going to stay with Nudge until I found my own place. It wouldn't take me more than a few minutes, and then we would all be off to Arizona, with the exception of my mom.

In actuality, everything was going according to plan. Just a lot quicker than expected, and with me in tow as well. Mom would arrange for all the furniture and such to be shipped out west, and then we would all be together again.

It was perfect.

Except for how sick I felt. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into a fetal position and rock back and forth in a corner somewhere. Anything but have to act normal; like my heart hadn't just been ripped out of my chest. Dread coiled in the pit of my stomach, accented by dysphoria and a burning rage. Inside I was bleeding, ravaged and raw.

Over a boy.

I think that's what gets me most about the entire situation. I was Maximum, for goodness sake. I was the toughest chick around. Maybe not anymore, but the fighter I once was still lived and breathed inside me. Had I really softened to the point where I was so easily battered by something has insignificant as heartbreak?

_He was you're best friend_, I reminded myself, in an attempt to defend my current emotions and actions. _He wasn't just some random boy. You _knew _him . . . well, at least you thought you did. He tricked you. There's nothing you can do about that. You thought he was someone he wasn't. He fooled everybody, not just you._

All I had to do now was work towards getting over his deceit. Putting it in the past seemed easier said than done, though.

"Do you need help carrying anything?"

Ella's question ripped through my thoughts, breaking me of my gloomy state. I blinked, my gaze refocusing. It took a moment for me to remember she had asked me something, but by that time it was too late. She had detected that something was up.

"What's wrong, Max?" she demanded, coming closer. Her steps were soundless on the padded carpet; her thick, dark hair swaying with each movement of her body. As she closed in on me my mind scrambled to come up with some excuse.

"Nothing. I was just spacing is all," I insisted hurriedly, reaching down to grab the handle of my suitcase. It clicked into place as I pulled on it, the wheels gliding roughly over the fibers of the carpet as I walked towards the door. "If you could grab that other bag, it'd be great."

I was almost completely into the hallway when she spoke again, the serious tone in her voice stopping me in my tracks.

"I know something is up Max. We all do. You think we don't know something big happened to make you change your mind?" she inquired, her voice firm. "You know you'll have to tell us eventually, too. It'll be better if it's soon. The less we have to pester you about it, the better for all of us."

Swallowing thickly I turned around for a split second, facing her once more. Our gazes clashed, eyes searching for something- though I don't think either of us knew what that something was, exactly. After a few intimidating seconds of this I shook my head slightly, and she dropped her stare to the ground.

Sighing almost inaudibly I began my descent, dragging the suitcase full of my things down with me. It thumped with each step, jarring my shoulder every time. I kept my mind carefully blank, not allowing myself to think about all the possible ways this move could go wrong; whether or not I'd regret it.

All I knew was that I had to get away from this city and Fang alike . . . and nothing was going to stop me from escaping now.

"Is that it?" Aunt Valencia asked me when I lugged my case out the front door, meeting her at the back of the van. Nudge's mom was standing to the side, talking with mine, while Nudge herself was having a very heartfelt, teary goodbye with Ella, who had followed shortly after me.

"Should be," I was saying, when I saw the sleek, black car pull up behind Aunt Val's. It took all of my impressive self control not to start hyperventilating right there on the spot. Instead, I remained cool, calm and collected; going on to say: "I'm just going to run up and check one last time, though."

"That's probably a good idea. If you miss anything though, your mom will bring it with her when she comes," Aunt Val assured me.

I nodded quickly before turning on my heel, just as Fang was walking towards me. Without so much as glancing his way I hurried up the steps and into the house, sensing more than seeing him follow right after me without saying anything to the others.

Surprisingly, I managed to hustle up the stairs and into my room before he could speak to me. When I was safely inside I relaxed a bit. We were away from everybody else now. I didn't really want to have what was sure to be the following conversation in front of them all. Too many questions and too long of a flight ahead to talk about it with them, which was the last thing I wanted at the time.

I was pretending to look in what I knew was a completely empty drawer when strong arms wound around my waist, the ground disappearing beneath my feet as I was spun around. I twisted in surprise, coming face to face with an oddly happy Fang. He was smiling -_actually smiling_- his teeth bright white and flashing.

Before I could say anything he dipped his head, bringing his mouth to mine. Our lips sealed together, cutting off and leaving any words I had imagined I'd speak to die. And I know I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help but kiss him back. No matter how much I wanted to shove him away, and say- punch him straight in the face, I couldn't do it. This was _Fang_, after all. It was habit . . .

And if I was being honest with myself, I really just wanted one last moment of bliss with him.

I was still slightly in shock when he eventually pulled away, the out of place, lopsided grin he was wearing never once leaving his face. I just stared at him, my mind working overtime to compensate for my lack of common sense.

"I'm sorry I didn't answer any of your calls." That's right. He had been ignoring me, again.

My brow furrowed.

"I was having lunch with my parents." Yeah. And someone else, if I recalled correctly.

I started pulling away.

"Iggy called right when I was already on my way over here. He told me that you were staying." I'm sure that made him _incredibly _ecstatic.

I shoved him away completely.

He stumbled back a few steps, his eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. The smile slipped off his face, as he took in my dark, wrathful expression. I'm sure at that point I was looking anything but happy.

Scoffing a bit I turned my back to him, hands on my hips as I surveyed the now barren room before me. It seemed I really did have everything that I needed. Now all that was left to do was . . . leave.

"Max . . ." Fang said slowly; worriedly. I could imagine the wary look in his obsidian eyes, and the strain on his jaw as he clenched it tight. "What's going on?"

"Some things came up. They need Aunt Valencia back in Arizona sooner than they expected," I explained offhandedly, wiping away an imaginary piece of dust from the dresser. It was actually relatively clean, my finger barely leaving a smudge.

"So you're going to stay with Nudge already?" he inquired. "Iggy said that's what you were doing until we found you a place."

I found his use of the term 'we' so intensely amusing that I almost laughed out loud. I managed to contain my chuckles though, my lips instead lingering on a snide smirk that made my stomach twist even just imagining how cruel it must have looked.

For a moment I felt bad, for toying with and torturing him like this. Then I remember that he was a fake, lying, cheating bastard and I hated him all over again, with a fire that burned even steadier as time passed.

"I'm not going to Nudge's," I said, wincing slightly as I turned to fully look him in the eye. The same depthless, midnight colored pools I had gazed into so many times before appeared to be those of a strangers now.

"Then where are you going?" he asked, bewildered.

"Arizona."

I watched the realization dawn minutely in his eyes. Even news at a scale as huge as that barely scraped his emotionless shield. Everything seemed to be rebuffed by the wall he had built around himself.

"_What_?" he demanded, his voice low and monotonous. He was completely shutting down, right before my eyes. That's how I knew how much my announcement had impacted him. His guard was going up at every possible place, in preparation for the unknown.

I wondered how easy it would be to tear that all down, leaving him desolate and defenseless.

"I'm going to Arizona," I stated, my voice unsteady and shaking. "I'm going to Arizona _right now_. I'm leaving this stupid city behind and I'm never coming back. Not ever. There's nothing left for me here."

Fang closed his eyes, like my words stung him too much to bear. I knew how puzzled he was though. He honestly thought I didn't know, that I wouldn't figure him out. But that was one mystery I had solved by chance and chance alone.

"I thought you were . . . What about . . . what about . . .?" I reveled in leaving him speechless and incapable of forming coherent sentences. It didn't happen a lot.

"What about what, Fang?" I hissed defiantly, my tone hostile and cold. "What about _you_?"

His fists clenched at his sides.

I closed the few steps between us, knowing that I had enough strength and will power for at least that much. I paused, my face centimeters from his. After waiting for a few minutes his eyes finally fluttered open, like a deep, onyx colored crevice.

"Look at it this way," I ground out through gritted teeth, fighting to keep the tears now sprouting in my eyes at bay. Something new flickered in Fang's irises though, and I knew he had taken notice. "It'll be so much easier for you. You won't have to sneak around with Lissa behind my back anymore. You're free to do whatever you want."

His eyes widened, understanding crashing like a tsunami in his mind. I felt my lower lip beginning to tremble, as I took a step away from him and to the door; to my escape. His hand shot out to stop me though, his iron grip like an impenetrable vise around my forearm.

"No. Max, _no_. It's not-"

I summoned all the strength I had and yanked, ripping my arm from his grasp. The second I was free I took off, sprinting out into the hallway and down the steps. He followed close on my heels, snagging the back of my jacket at one point. I shrugged it off as I went, leaving him standing, open mouthed, at the top of the stairs.

"Please Max. Just let me explain," he called out after me, notes of anguish ringing high and clear in his voice. I ignored him, practically breaking the door off its hinges as I threw it open. I didn't have to run anymore though. He wasn't trying to pursue me.

"_Let me explain_."

Those were the last words I heard him speak before I slammed the door shut behind me, closing the part of my life that I had wasted on him.

**Authors Note: Yeah. That's right. Another not good ending to a chapter (for you, at least). What are you going to do about it? You're going to REVIEW! That's what you're going to do!**

**. . . Please? (:**

**P.S. Do any of you have Skype? Does it hate you as much as it hates me? Haha :P**


	19. Because

**Authors Note: You guys are awesome. Your reviews are awesome. Just . . . awesome. I LOVE YOU. Nothing more needs to be said . . . other than I'm leaving for vacation today for a little over a week, and I'm going to miss you like crazy! Yeah, you. Not anyone else. Just you.**

**Ahem. I also won't be updating until I get back, obviously. The beach is calling for me, and I will NOT ignore it. So this is what you get for the time being.**

**Chapter Nineteen:**

_**Because**_

"You gonna explain what that was about?" Ella asked, once we were safely on the road and headed to the airport. I assumed from the ethereal silence that had consumed everyone in the car, that they had heard at least part of mine and Fang's exchange.

"Nope."

She didn't respond. I knew I hadn't heard the end of it though. Not even in the slightest. By the way her lips were pressed together in a thin line, and the crease in her brow, I could tell she was forcing herself not to question me further. Most likely because of all the people in the car with us.

I would take whatever I could get, I guess.

Leaning my head against the chilled pane of the glass window, a shroud covered my vision as my eyelids slipped shut over my dark brown irises. They itched and burned slightly with unshed tears, as the full weight of the situation set in . . .

I was leaving my home; the only place I had ever really known. I was leaving behind my friends and my family . . . And most of all, I was leaving because of _Fang_. It was almost unfathomable to me. Something _had _to be wrong. Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe this was just one huge big nightmare, and I was hopefully going to wake up soon and realize that everything was okay.

Psh. Right.

"Max, we're here," a small voice said in my ear, tiny hands shaking my shoulder lightly. I stirred, cracking one eye open. I must have dozed off during the car ride, though it seemed I wasn't waking up to a reality that I preferred.

"Come on, Max. We have to go get on the plane."

I blinked over at Angel, where she was crouched on the upholstered seat beside me, curly blond ringlets raining around her shoulders and spilling over into her eyes. It took me a few seconds, but I managed a wane smile as I slipped my seat belt off, fingers gliding along until they found the smooth handle of the door. Pushing it open I clambered out onto my feet, stretching slightly. My shirt rode up, exposing a small patch of my stomach, as I arched my back. Tugging it back down again I turned to offer a hand to Angel.

"Thanks," she said politely as I helped her to the asphalt. A car turned into an empty space a few spots over from us; what appeared to be some sort of business man at the wheel. I watched for a moment as he adjusted his tie, before I realized I was staring and I turned away quickly.

His hair was as dark as Fang's.

"Are you just going to stand there all day, or are you going to get a move on?" Ella called out, and I noticed for the first time that everybody was hefting their suitcases towards the airport doors, Mom standing by the trunk with my bag in her hand, waiting.

"Yeah. Sorry," I muttered, disoriented and feeling sick to my stomach. I didn't know how I was going to manage the rest of my life, if all I could see in anybody else was their similarities to Fang. All it did was remind me of the hurt he had caused me, because of what he had done.

What I really needed to do was stop thinking about it . . .

That was easier said than done.

"Are you okay, sweetie?"

I started slightly, glancing over at Mom. She kept pace with me as our dysfunctional little group slowly approached the airport. The sound of roaring engines filled my ears, and we all looked up as a giant plane lifted into the air, gliding farther and farther upwards.

"I'm fine," I said offhandedly. _No I'm not. I'm dying inside. He ripped my heart out and fed it to that red haired wonder Lissa, and I don't know what to do because I feel like any second I might break down in tears and just die on the spot, which I shouldn't because I'm _so _much better than that. Yet, he was so much better than that too. At least I _thought _he was. But it seems like more and more lately I'm wrong about _every_thing, and I just keep going back and trying to figure out when I started to trust him with every single fiber of my being, knowing how much of a mistake it was . . . and I feel like utter crap because I know I wouldn't take a second of it back . . . Because I love him._

I didn't know how long I would be able to hold all those words inside me, even though they barely scraped the raw emotions that were coursing through me, like salt to an open wound. That wound being my heart, and the pain from it being the blood that was carried to the rest of my body, making everything inside of me pulse with a tangible force of miserable aches.

Glancing over at my mother though, I could tell by the look in her eyes that she had read between the lines, and that she knew exactly what I was feeling . . . Because she _did_, I remembered suddenly. She _did _know how it felt to be burned so badly by someone you thought cared for you. Hadn't that been exactly what happened with that scum of the earth Jeb?

He ran out on us, _abandoned _us, in favor of a new life with his new family.

I flashed back to Jared's funeral; at the astonishment of seeing him there . . . at the rage that his very appearance brought to the surface. For the first time since then I thought about Ari . . . my brother.

And after that it just wouldn't leave my mind, no matter how hard I fought to erase it.

That's why for most of the plane ride to Arizona, I mulled over him. Wondering what he looked like, what he him_self_ was like. Asking what his favorite food was, or if he liked reading. Thinking about how he was treated by other people, and Jeb himself.

But mostly I kept coming back to the frustration of simply _not knowing_.

That was another unspoken aspect of life, though. It was full of not knowing. Everything was a mystery. You couldn't control how things reacted, or what they set off because of it. You just had to go with the motions, and hope it came out in your favor. I had come to learn that, in most cases, I wasn't so fortunate.

A sudden rustle beside me brought my senses to hyper alert, and I brought my head up from where it had been resting against the small, port-hole like window of the plane. Glancing over I came face to face with Ella, who was staring me down piercingly, her brown eyes a frothing mixture of determination and concern.

"Where did-?" I began, looking around for Angel, who was previously contentedly napping beside me. For the first part of the ride, she had been stationed at the window, her gaze glued to the heavens surrounding us. Eventually she had gotten tired of nothing but columns of clouds, so she had switched me seats and lulled off instantly.

"Bathroom," Ella assured me, pointing over our shoulders. I peeked through the seats, watching Aunt Val's back disappearing down the aisle, a wave of blond curls in front of her. "Gazzy's watching the movie," she threw in for good measure, anticipating my next question.

Sure enough, Gazzy was burrowed deeply into his seat directly in front of us, head resting on his hand as he followed the actors every movement on screen. Headphones nestled around his ears, and I knew he probably couldn't hear a word we were saying. Perfect . . . for Ella, it seemed.

"So what's the deal?" she demanded, leaning in closer to me. A tendril of her dark hair escaped the twist she had it in at the base of her neck, and she looped it haphazardly around her hair in irritation.

"What do you mean?" I asked, feigning innocence. Hopefully my ignorance would force her to drop the matter.

But most likely not.

"You think we didn't hear you and Fang? I wouldn't be surprised if the whole _neighborhood _didn't," she insisted forcefully, her eyes narrowing impossibly further. She was on a conquest for information, and it seemed that even I was unqualified to impose on such a mission.

"Look Ella, I really don't want to talk about it," I replied tiredly, squeezing my eyes shut tight at the memory. _ Her hand in his. Their smiling faces. Him . . . kissing her_.

"Max please. Just . . . just tell me what happened. Maybe I can help," she offered, a somber quality masking her tone.

"I doubt there's much you can do. That I assure you."

"But-"

"No!" I practically shouted, fighting to keep my voice down. Several passengers glanced over at me anyway, and I glared back forcefully. "What's done is done. There's no going back from here, okay? It's none of your business, so stop trying to make it yours."

I wanted to bite back the harshness of my words as soon as they passed my lips, but it was too late. Just as I had proclaimed, what's done is done. Ella shrunk back, hurt clearly written all over her face. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. With eyes downcast, she slunk back to her seat beside Gazzy, and didn't spare me another glance the rest of the plane ride.

It seemed I was losing what little people I had on my side left and right.

**- }{ -**

_White. Everything was white. It encompassed every sense I had. I could practically hear it roaring in my ears; making my toes curl subconsciously at the shudder tickling down my spine. _

_At first, it seemed indefinite. Just the color of discolor ranging onward for an indeterminable amount of space. The glare soon diminished slightly though, as my eyes adjusted to the glow it emanated. I could then see that I was stored in what was really only a small room._

_Clean, polished tiles cut in neat squares sunk flush together against the ground, stretching out until they met one of the four, bare walls. They seemed to shimmer and sparkle in their blankness, playing tricks on my vision. If I tried to focus on them too long, confusion set in. I couldn't decide whether they were solid or not, and it made my head hurt to mull over it._

_One thing I took careful notice of though, was the lack of escape. No windows. No doors. At least, none that could be seen. I was trapped in this brilliant prison. The reason though, I had yet to determine._

_I chose this moment to actually take stock of myself for the first time._

_Until then, I hadn't payed much attention to it, but now it became overwhelming; so much so that I nearly cried out. There was an itch tearing up my back, and it made me so uncomfortable that it was verging on agonizing. It felt like the skin, starting at my shoulder blades, was wiggling in place; muscles bunching and curling into a mass that simply squirmed around my spine. Arranging and rearranging themselves to fit some purpose._

_Breathing heavily I dropped my elbows to the ground, unable to manage the crouch I had been resting in previously. My limbs quivered, as a light trickle of sweat broke out on my forehead, slipping down my neck. Trembling even more I layed down on my stomach, closing my eyes. I didn't understand what was happening, and a part of me didn't want to know either. _

_So I waited it out, doing my best to ignore the discomfort._

_I didn't know how much time passed. Seconds? Minutes? _Hours_? In this crude hold I couldn't be sure. In the long run, that probably didn't matter anyway. What really grabbed my attention was the heavy sensation now pressing down on my back. Other than that, there was nothing._

_Slowly I lifted my head, craning it around to see as much as possible. I didn't have to strain myself much though. It didn't take a lot to see what was obviously now protruding from my back . . . _

_Wings._

**Authors Note: So. Not a cliffhanger or anything, really. Can you live with it? (:**

**P.S. For those of you who have Skype, would it not be kinda awesome to do random Skype chats after I update? We can talk about . . . stuff. Like the chapter, and the story, and other things about life. Is that something anybody would be interested in? Lemme' know!**

**P.P.S. In honor of my vacationing, what's YOUR favorite vacation? **


	20. Insatiable

**Authors Note: I'M BACK. Did you miss me? Yeah, I know you did. No need to be modest or anything.**

**Ahem. Well, here you go.**

**Chapter Twenty**

_**Insatiable**_

I loved Arizona.

As much as I missed home, and wished more than anything that I could return and resume my life at a somewhat peaceful semblance, there was just something so endearing about it all. The blistering heat at this time of year. The abundance of wildlife. The sky, so clear and crystalline blue. The way colors melded together, so unlike the concrete jungle I was used to. It wasn't particularly lush by any means, but it was certainly a step up from nothing but stone from every angle.

So . . . I loved Arizona.

Of course I wasn't completely happy. How could I be? My life was anything but whole at the moment. Considering how many pieces were lost from the bigger picture, it was a miracle I was even holding on as well as I was.

Sure, my blood-related family was together after so long a struggle. It was great not only to have Angel and Gazzy back in my safe sight . . . but also the inclusion of Ella and Aunt Valencia, too. Not to forget my mother, who I was slowly beginning to warm up to; though if you imagine I trusted her, you'd be dead wrong.

But blood ties didn't make a family. It's the people you love that make your life bearable . . . and the simple fact was, I had left a lot of them behind in my dash to escape the biggest heartbreak of my existence thus far.

It was hard keeping contact with Iggy and Nudge. We shared phone calls and e-mails, but it just wasn't the same. Hearing Nudge babble endlessly and actually seeing her doing it were two very different things, and the longing to see that frenzied look in her eyes physically hurt sometimes. Just the same with Iggy. It seemed the more he related his tales of explosives, the more I yearned to witness them in person.

They were both deranged, but I missed them. So much.

And if you think my heart didn't still ache at the mere thought of Fang or anything Fang-like . . . well, you'd have a problem. No matter how far the distance separating us, or the time that stretched between us, nothing could erase the pain he caused me. A huge part of me chided myself for my rash actions. Was moving halfway across the country really any better? I still missed him with a overbearing force that overshadowed any common sense. That wouldn't be any different here or there.

But the simple truth was, he had been the only thing holding me back; tying me to the city . . . and now what I once thought were the impenetrable steel cables between us had broken, leaving me stranded and feeling empty and alone.

As I was saying though . . . Arizona, not too bad.

It had been incredibly tough at first, just simply adjusting to such enormous changes. I was good at adapting though, and I felt as comfortable as humanely possible in this new place within no time. All in all, my transition wasn't as rocky as I had anticipated.

School was the number one thing I had been dreading, but even that had been made bearable within days of my arrival. Usually, I was the one to steer clear and keep to myself. Some say I have trust issues . . . I say I'm just careful. Or paranoid. Whichever works for you. There was one person though, that made it very clear that they weren't going to allow that, even before truly knowing me at all.

"Hey Max," the smooth, now familiar voice said from over my shoulder. I hummed a response, not bothering to turn from where I was rummaging for my math book in the cluttered depths of my locker. _How could it already be so messy_?

"Yeah, I'm great. Thanks for asking. Really. I'm so grateful for the attention you give me. Some people wouldn't even give me the time of day," they continued pointedly, not missing a beat.

I rolled my eyes, fingers clutching the thick spine of my book as I plucked it from the wreckage; crumpled papers creating an avalanche into the space it had once occupied. Triumphant now that my mission was succeeded, I finally turned on my heel to raise an eyebrow at my companion.

"Hi Zach," I greeted him contemptuously, before facing the gaping door of my locker once more. Now for that homework assignment . . .

Out of my peripheral vision I saw him lean a shoulder against the wall of metal beside me, smiling lazily as he watched my scavenging. It only took me a second to recognize the amused, knowing look in his open, deep green eyes.

"What?" I demanded accusingly, crossing my arms as I squared off to him. He only shook his head at my position, clearly not bothered by my forceful attitude. That was one of the many reasons we clicked so easily. He thought my gruff, slightly mean persona was _funny_. Consequentially, I made a new friend.

He took a languid step towards me, so that our chests were only centimeters apart. His head bent slowly down, but not by much. He was only a few inches taller than me. The movement caused a strand of his glossy brown hair to fall into his eyes; obscuring the glowing green they emanated. My breath caught in my throat, and I'm sure my own irises were wider than saucers. Every one of my limbs tensed up as he reached around my torso, sliding a hand into the back pocket of my slightly worn jeans.

"Looking for this?" he inquired arrogantly, cocking his head to the side as he stepped back, giving me some room to breathe. I did so gratefully, exhaling as discreetly as possible. With a huff I snatched the folded piece of paper he had retrieved, shooting him a stinging glare. He, typically, grinned amiably and quite cheekily. There was no mistaking his gloating.

"Just keep your hands _out _of my pants from now on," I commanded, hostility lacing my tone as I smoothed the creases down on the sheet of complicated looking equations, most of which I'm sure I got wrong.

"Whoah, whoah, whoah. _What _did I just walk into?" Ella stared between the two of us, wide eyed. "Scratch that. I probably don't want to know."

"Hey Els. Where have you been?" That super cousin of mine had ditched me as soon as I became buddy-buddy with Zach. I'm sure he was quite happy with her leaving me in his hands (sarcasm). We still came to school together and everything, but she generally disappeared upon arrival. After all, she had her whole posse of friends at the school already, that were more than ecstatic to have her back.

"I was headed to class," she said vaguely, pointing down the hall. "I thought I'd stop and say hi, but apparently that was the wrong decision."

I rolled my eyes, and Zach and I shared an amused look. As if.

You see, Zach knew nothing was ever going to blossom between us. Sure he was majorly cute, and we got along great . . . but he wasn't _Fang_. Yes, I know that sounds incredibly bad. I mean, I should be moving on and getting over that lying bastard, right? Right. But not so soon. I wasn't going to be thrusting my heart at another boy anytime in the near future. I was far too guarded for that, and it really wouldn't be fair to that someone either. Not that I had personally confided with Zach about this or anything. Somehow, he just seemed to sense that romance was _not _important to me at the moment.

The same with him. He was too involved with everything else on this planet to worry about having a girlfriend. Or so he says. I didn't judge him on that, nor did I ask questions. It wasn't my space to pry.

We had a very agreeable, complacent friendship. That was it. I _really _didn't need the added drama in my life, that was for sure.

"Oh my gosh, ELLA!"

I had to force myself not to visibly cringe at the outlandish screech, leaning up against the row of lockers beside Zach. A fair haired girl in Ella's grade skidded to a halt in front of her, her lips stretched back in the biggest smile possible. I wasn't sure if they were friends, and by the barely concealed distaste on Ella's face, I was betting they weren't.

"Jenna," Ella stated with false enthusiasm. "What's up?"

"You haven't heard the news?" she squealed, clapping her hands while simultaneously hopping from foot to foot. I had to bite down on my tongue to stop from asking her if she had to use the restroom.

"What news?" That seemed to spark Ella's interest, if only just a little.

"_Everybody's _talking about it," the girl, Jenna, breathed; acting like it was a scandal not to have known. "It's only the biggest thing to have happened since you came back!"

Which was only a few months, mind you. How tragically boring that time had been!

"Can you just spit it out already?" I demanded, my eyes narrowing as my patience thinned. It's not my fault I had a low tolerance for annoying, preppy girls who often speak in a voice ten octaves too high.

"Now Max, don't be grumpy," Zach reprimanded me, slinging an arm around my shoulders. He pulled me tightly to him, shaking my entire frame. In response I elbowed him in the gut.

He let me go.

Ella gave me a look too, though the mixture of anger and impatience made me think she was more grateful for my interruption than she was able to let on. Blinking slowly, like she was gathering her wits, she turned back to Jenna, who looked slightly disgruntled herself. "You were saying?"

"Uhm . . . yeah. Well, there's a new kid. A boy!" Yup. The insatiable (and more than a little crazed) excitement was back in a flash. "I mean, he doesn't go to school here or anything. He's just visiting I guess. But apparently he was in the parking lot this morning, just chilling, you know? And well, he's SO gorgeous. Like, really. At least that's what I've heard. I didn't actually see him or anything."

Ah, great. The dreamy sigh. Never fails.

"Obviously they mistook me for a stranger," Zach muttered under his breath, shooting me a wicked grin. I rolled my eyes for the umpteenth time, punching him in the shoulder. He gritted his teeth, wincing. Oops.

"As much as I would _love _to stay and chat, I should probably get to class," I announced, directing this more towards Ella. "Come on Zachykins."

"Anything you say Maxiepie," he retorted instantly, his tone taunting.

"Me calling you a horribly mushy pet name was _not _invitation for you to do the same," I insisted, putting one hand on my hip while I cradled my load of books in the other arm. It didn't really complete the overall look I was going for, especially since we were steadily making our way down the hall.

"Good thing I didn't ask for your permission then."

Screw logic. It always did me wrong in the end.

**Authors Note: I'm hoping you get the point of this chapter without me explaining why it's necessary. If you don't . . . ask your neighbor! Good thing we have that settled then.**

**P.S. If someone were to, say: totally annhilate your trust and make you all crycry depressed and stuff . . . should you take the chance and assume they're capable of changing?**

**REVIEW! Review, review, review, review! Pretty pretty PRETTY please? I'm sure you have something to predict about Zach? Mhm? (:**


	21. Shiver

**Authors Note: The first part of this chapter is in third person, from . . . FAANG'S point of view! Whooo! I know you're excited. I just know it. It switches back to Max- well, you'll know when. So I won't keep you busy any longer! **

**Continue (:**

**Chapter Twenty One**

_**Shiver**_

He missed her so much.

Every day he felt a little bit weaker; more prone to caving to the gaping hole in his chest. He was Fang. He wasn't supposed to be so . . . emotionally affected. But this was Max. And when it came to her, everything changed.

It was more difficult than he could have ever imagined, just living day to day. Knowing she was halfway across the country, yet so unsure of her safety. Whether she was . . . happy. Or more importantly, whether she was as _un_happy as he was.

Every minuscule thing he saw, or heard, or felt, or smelt, or even _tasted_, for that matter, reminded him of her. Anything. Everything. It hurt . . . it hurt so incredibly badly he didn't know what to do with himself half the time. He found it a miracle that he didn't dissolve into tears, and that was saying something. Once again, this was _Fang_.

On the outside he looked as perfectly blank and unblemished as usual. An irrelevant passerby would see nothing out of the ordinary. True, his stony facade held strong even in this terrible time. It was on the inside that his walls were shattered, destruction reigning terror on his heart.

All he could see was her face; the way her lip had trembled as she stared up at him, saying those words that were so inconceivable to him. That it would somehow be easier that way.

The image of her fleeing because of him was burned permanently into his mind. It stayed there, never slipping far from his sight. It probably wasn't helping much, simply prying open an already festering wound, but the constant picture reminded him that this was all his fault.

But she didn't understand. She didn't understand_ at all_. What she thought and what had actually been going on were two very different things. She was convinced he had betrayed her in the worst way possible . . .

Only he knew how untrue that was.

Somehow, someway . . . he had to make her understand. She had to know the truth. The gnawing anxiety that accompanied such sentiments wasn't going to go away until he was able to confide in her. He doubted he would ever move on from her, however typically teenage angst-ridden that sounded. There was no one else quite like Max Ride.

His Maximum.

So, regardless of what obstacles stood in his path, he would find her . . . and he would explain, and right all his assumed wrongs. She could make her decision after that, whether he stayed or went.

And he would do either, if only to see her smile one more time.

**- }{ -**

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!" I insisted.

"Yes!" Zach hissed back, equally stubborn.

"Noooo."

"Yeeees."

"No. No, no, no."

"Yes. Yes, yes, yes."

"I _will _hit you."

"I _will _bite you."

"Ugh. Touche," I muttered, slightly repulsed. Zach grinned in response, flashing his impeccably white teeth. He snapped them in my direction for effect, and I quickly dodged his lunge; sidestepping slightly. With him you really couldn't tell. It was best to be cautious.

"Alright. Let's go then." He motioned towards the door exiting the school. A still steady flow of students were passing through it, on their way home for the day. The exact place I wanted to go, too. It seemed though, that Zach wasn't going to be so easily deterred.

"Zach, I'm not going to your grandmother's house to help you plant flowers!" I practically screamed this time, my patience wearing thin. Why was he so infuriating?

There was a beat of silence as we stared each other down. Zach may have been able to rival me in stubbornness, but I had him beat in the glaring department hands down. No one had a better glare then me . . . no one but Fang.

And the heart pangs were back.

"You guys fight like a married couple."

I glanced up quickly, my brow furrowing instantly. Zach followed my gaze, turning around so he could see the person standing behind him. It was a girl, probably a little younger than us. I personally didn't have a clue who she was, and by the raised eyebrow I was now receiving from Zach, I didn't think he was acquainted with her either. Odd.

"I mean seriously. Why don't you just get with each other already?"

My expression morphed into something akin to stormy a split second after the words were out of her mouth. Clenching my hands into fists I stared at her wordlessly, trying to contain myself. It wouldn't do me any good to punch this innocent chick in the face. It wasn't her fault, after all. She didn't know what I had just gone through . . . What I was still going through, if I was being truthful to myself.

"Max-" Zach began in concern, upon seeing my volatile expression. I just shook his worry off, trying futilely to compose myself. If I kept this up I wasn't going to be able to dodge his questions anymore. Relating the whole tale of my heartbreak _wasn't _going to help me, that I was sure of. I didn't want to relive it any more than I had to. As it was, everything (and I mean everything) was a painful reminder of Fang, and the lost love we had. Rather, the lost love on my half, that is. It had become agonizingly obvious that he had never cared for me at all.

"I have to . . . go to the bathroom," I blurted, scrambling for excuses. My mind was frazzled, jumbled into a mess now that I was thinking about him so much. "I'll be right back."

Hustling away from where Zach and the strange girl were still standing, I hurried down the hall. My feet scuffed against the streaked, dirty tile of the corridor, kicking up debris and dust as I went. Scraps of paper and half chewed on pencils cluttered together as the janitor came in my direction with a mop, cramming all the trash into one pile. I danced out of his way, nodding a greeting in response to his. The movement was mechanical and done on instinct.

Finally locating a bathroom I stumbled into it, the cold door giving slight resistance as I shoved it open; creaking on its hinges the entire way. The once glossy paint was already fading and slashed to reveal the old coat beneath it . . . Kind of like me, when I stopped to think about it.

Here I was, with this entirely new life after all the hardships of the past. At first, it had all been going great, but the luxury was quickly diminishing; wearing down to dull. Now the finish was peeling off entirely, leaving me raw and defenseless to whatever came my way. Once upon a time I probably could have taken Fang's betrayal. After months of going soft though, not to mention the utter shock of it, I was completely unprepared.

Stuck. Stuck with a load of broken promises and a crushed heart.

Breathing deeply, I tried to remain a semblance of calm. Leaning heavily on the cream colored counter, I gazed into the smudged, cracked mirror. The brown in my blond hair glinted in the dim fluorescent lighting, coiled together at the nape of my neck. My mouth puckered down at the corners, and I vainly tried to force them upwards. My eyes though, were the worst. They looked half deranged; shiny and reflective. I really didn't want to admit it, but the sheen came from the fact that they were slick with tears.

Many times, especially late at night when I had nothing to do but lay and think of him, I had come very nearly close to crying. But I never had. Not once. I was proud of that. It seemed like a major breakdown was largely overdue, though. Something had to happen. At some point I had to start moving on from him and his lies. Instead, I was perpetually frozen in this state of longing and pain.

Awesome.

A soft knocking on the door, that grew louder the longer I didn't answer, broke me of my contemplative state. Shaking my head I craned it to gaze in the direction of the door. For a moment I was confused by the noise, before I realized it was probably Zach coming to check on why I was taking so long.

Taking one last deep, soothing breath I closed the distance between myself and the door. I grasped the handle in my fingers, tugging it inwards. Just as I expected, Zach was on the other side, painted concerns on his face.

"Hey," I greeted him loftily.

"You okay?" he inquired, no beating around the bush. Straight to the point that kid was.

"Of course," I said with an indifferent shrug. "Why wouldn't I be? I just had to use the potty."

His eyes narrowed calculatingly as he inspected me. Whether he believed me or not, I didn't really care. I just needed to get out of there.

"You sure you're alright?" Zach pressed on, seeing right through me.

"I'm great. Never been better." The sarcastic enthusiasm in my voice didn't go unnoticed by him, and I could tell he was already formulating yet another prying question. To deter this I stepped completely into the hallway, letting the door to the bathroom swing shut behind me.

I shot him a smile as I pushed past the blockade he had made with his body. He stepped back to let me through, but I could tell I hadn't heard the end of it. Out of my peripheral vision I saw him run a hand through his light brown hair, the ends sticking up once his fingers detached themselves.

"Are you ever going to tell me what your deal is?"

His words stopped me cold. I could only take one more faltering step away before I felt rooted to the spot. Turning slowly I found him a few paces behind me, him having never moved from in front of the girls restroom.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"Look Max, you're a really good friend, and I _don't _have any romantic interest in you. But every time someone brings up something about us dating you either shrug it off like with Ella this morning, or you act like someone just announced the apocalypse. In case you hadn't noticed, most people don't react like that. I never asked you before, because I never thought it was really necessary, but it's getting kind of out of hand. So, what gives?" he demanded, taking a few steps towards me.

I didn't know what to say.

"I . . . It's nothing. Seriously." My attempt at nonchalance wasn't going to fool anyone, least of all him. Zach could read me almost as well as . . . Fang. Fang. All the time. It always came back to him in the end, didn't it? God, I was pathetic.

"What, is it like a secret or something? I can keep secrets. Don't you trust me?"

Now he was just trying to make me feel bad.

"I do trust you, to a certain extent."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded. A crease appeared on his forehead, as his brows furrowed. Ahhh. Way to go, Max! Could you shove your foot in your mouth any more?

"I've been through a hell of a lot. More than you could imagine. Maybe one day I'll be able to sit down and tell you it all, because trust me when I say it's a long story. But know this: I don't trust easily. The fact that I'm as close as I am to you is an accomplishment on your part . . . Especially after what he did to me."

Zach's opaque green eyes were trained on mine.

"Who?"

I sighed heavily. "_That _is most definitely not a conversation I'm ready to have with _anyone _yet."

Not waiting for a response, or to even see his reaction, I turned on my heel and started making my way down the now empty hall once more. The silence that ensued was almost palpable. I could hear every rustle my clothes made as I walked, and the thudding of my feet on the hard tile. I was almost to the door when another set of footsteps joined my own; much quicker. Zach caught up to me just as I reached the door.

"I guess I'll have to wait then," he said, looking down at me with a smile. I grinned thankfully in return.

As I was pushing the door open he slung a loose arm around my shoulder, stepping out in perfect unison with me. Vaguely I heard him start in on his spiel about going to his grandmother's again, but I wasn't listening. No, instead I found myself halting in disbelief; my eyes going wide and my mouth gaping. A shiver ran up my spine, as my heart beat painfully in my chest.

"_Fang_?"

**Authors Note: HAHAHAHAHAH (that was an evil cackle, just so you know). I managed to leave you in heavy suspense once again. I. Am. A. Genius. Really, I am ;)**

**Anyway, thanks for the reviews as always. I don't think I've been saying that, so just know that it's MUCHO appreciated. Oh, and keep it up. Seriously. I got more reviews than I usually do for last chapter . . . so it'd be nice if you could, you know, do it again. Catch muh drift? (:**

**P.S. For those of my readers that have read The Hunger Games, and are super excited for the movie: what actor(s) are you most excited to see potray their characters role? I just realized Alexander Ludwig is Cato yesterday, AND I DIED. Mhmm, I like him. Although I don't see why they cast Josh Hutcherson as Peeta over him. It's CRAZY.**


	22. Love

**Authors Note: I had twenty one reviews for chapter twenty one, and I thought it was funny so I updated (: Good thing I checked it when I did, huh? ;)**

**Yeah, so I won't make you suffer anymore. YOU'RE WELCOME.**

**Chapter Twenty Two**

_**Love**_

Fang. _Fang_. It was Fang. No. It couldn't be Fang. _But it was Fang_. Except it was impossible. Fang was in New York. Fang was _not _in Arizona. Fang, Fang, Fang. _No, no, no_. I was . . . dreaming. Yeah. This was all just a dream, and I was going to wake up soon and realize that everything was back to normal; and people were on proper coasts of the country. Dreaming. Just dreaming.

Besides the small fact that I obviously wasn't, of course.

"_Max_," he breathed, and the sound of his voice made every particle of my being tense up and curl in on itself. My toes dug into the soles of my shoes, and my fingernails bit into my palms so hard I had to be drawing blood.

This couldn't feasibly be happening right now.

He couldn't seriously be standing in front of me, after so long, and still have such an affect. The mere sight of him had my heart constricting, working itself into a painful palpitation. The shaggy, raven black hair. The olive tone of his smooth skin. The curve of his lips. The marble-like obsidian of his eyes . . . Right down to all the blemishes and scars he wore from street fighting. Everything about him was so achingly familiar and reminiscent of a better time.

Except, when had it ever really been a good time? It wasn't like everything magically became perfect and fairytale-ish the moment he stepped into my life. No. Quite the opposite. New troubles always unfolded in the wake of a solved one. He was the only one capable of making me forget about how screwed up things were though, and that counted for so much. He had always been there for me . . . up until a certain point.

Then it all crashed and burned around me.

"Wha . . . What are . . . doing here?" I stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence around the blockade in my throat. At my side I could feel the confusion radiating off of Zach, as the arm around my shoulders became increasingly heavy. By the next comment that came out of Fang's mouth, I don't think it went unnoticed by him either.

"Who's that?" he asked, his voice low and seemingly controlled. There was an emotion in his eyes though, that screamed he was anything but. It was easy to see, because I was so used to nothing being there at all. Any difference was simple to spot.

"Uh . . . This is Zach. My friend," I hurried to add, and wanted to suck the words back in as soon as they passed my lips. I shouldn't have cared what Fang thought Zach was to me anyway.

So what if he was more than a friend? It was none of Fang's business in either case. We were nothing anymore. He had made that _very _clear when he_ cheated on me_. With one of the people I hated most, nonetheless.

"Max," Zach intoned, and I looked up to see him narrowing his green eyes at Fang. He could obviously sense my discomfort towards him. "Who's _that_?"

"This . . . This is Fang. He's . . . no one. He's _no one_," I spat through gritted teeth, my anger bubbling. What did he think he was doing here anyway? He couldn't just waltz back into my life. He didn't deserve to be associated with it any longer. Not one bit.

I felt myself jerk forwards, stomping down the remaining steps until I was level with said douchebag. His tall, wiry frame made a barrier between me and the parking lot. I gave him my best scintillating glare, shoving roughly passed him. The tingles sporadically dancing across my palms from where I made contact with his broad shoulders couldn't be ignored, though. Zach was close on my heels, keeping a reassuring hand on my lower back. With perverse notions I hoped Fang was aware of his proximity, despite my 'friend' claim.

"Max, wait. _Please_."

There was nothing I could do to help the stumble in my step, at hearing the raw emotion in his voice. The weakness. The vulnerability. It immediately ate away at my heart, reopening barely concealed wounds. It made me hate him even more; for having such power over me. He shouldn't. _I _shouldn't have _let _him.

But I did, and there was no reclaiming that.

Slowly I turned, closing my eyes briefly and breathing deeply. Facing him was going to take a lot of self control on my part. I _was _going to do it, though. There was no way I was going to cower from him. I was _Maximum_. No matter what, I would stay strong. If proving that meant I had to stare in the eye of the one who shattered any trust I had, then so be it.

"You don't deserve any of my time. Don't you think I've wasted enough on you?" I demanded coldly, unflinching as I glared into the depths of his dark irises. Remembering him with that stupid red head was all I needed to harden my resolve.

I watched his fingers curl into fists, and the wince he couldn't help but wear after my remark. Such emotions didn't belong on someone who was usually incredibly stone-faced. But what did I know? Not anything about him, certainly.

"Goodbye, Fang." Ice. Nothing but ice and malice, dripping from those simple words. I was getting some sense of closure, at that. There was a finality to the whole situation that put some part of me to ease, but only slightly.

"I saved your life, remember? You owe me."

His declaration had me fumbling to a halt once more. Sighing heavily I felt my entire body go still again, just waiting. After he deemed that my attention was captured, he resumed speaking; his tone low and smooth as ever, though there was a slight trembling present that only I could have probably detected.

"Just hear me out. Then we'll be even."

My gaze automatically flitted to Zach, where he was staring down at me with a mixture of emotions in his eyes. I could see he was mainly concerned though, and albeit confused. A lot. I smiled genuinely up at him, though there was probably a tinge of sadness there as well.

"If you want to go, we can go. I'll take care of this," he murmured under his breath, so that only I could hear. Even the mere thought of Zach 'taking care' of Fang made me want to laugh out loud. Not that Zach was scrawny or anything, but he also hadn't honed his skills on the streets of New York. There was a big difference between there and this tiny suburb in Arizona.

"Thanks. I really appreciate that . . . But he's right," I admitted begrudgingly, frowning to myself. "You go ahead to your grandma's. I'll see you later."

"Are you sure?" he asked, gnawing at his bottom lip as if it really wasn't a good idea to him. Which it probably wasn't, but hey; when did I have the best judgement towards staying out of trouble?

I nodded, trying for a thin smile once more.

"Alright," he said in resignation, shooting a scathing look over my shoulder where I could sense Fang hovering, silently observing our exchange. "I won't be far, though. I think I'm going to take my chances lurking, just in case he tries to kidnap you or something."

Cue rolling of the eyes.

I stalled for as long as possible after that, going as far as to keep Zach in my line of vision until he turned a corner and was out of sight. Even then I found it hard, but I eventually took enough deep breaths to force myself to face Fang.

We stared each other down for what seemed like forever after that. His gaze wandered, roaming over my features like he was memorizing the sight of me once again. I fought to remain stoic and calm, keeping my eyes trained on his no matter how much it pained me to do so.

"How have you been?"

I deadpanned. That's what he decided to open up with? _How have you been_? He practically destroyed me with his betrayal, and _that's _all he could come up with?

"How the hell do you think I've been?" I snapped, crossing my arms in a vain effort to keep us separated. I had a feeling that if he wanted us closer, he would make it happen despite my precautions.

His lips pressed together into a tight line at the tone of my voice, and despite his best efforts his eyes slipped shut as well. Good. It was easier to look at him that way.

"I don't know. Maybe as bad as I've been. Maybe not," he muttered roughly, the words he was shaping coming out sounding strangled and uneven. It made me unsure of my own actions, seeing him so emotional. It didn't happen a lot.

"Let's not forget our places here, _Fang_," I hissed his name; proudly noting that my voice didn't crack in the slightest. "This is _your _fault. Not mine. I'm not the one that cheated, okay? I'm not the one who broke your heart. _You did that to me_. To _yourself_."

"No."

Just like that. No questions to it. Firmly. Surely. As if I was as blind as Iggy in the situation. Like I didn't know what I saw.

"No?" My eyebrows had to have disappeared into my hairline.

"_No_. I swear to you, that's not what happened. If you had just listened to me back in New York, you would know that. But you're so goddamn stubborn, Max," he insisted, tugging at a lock of his dark hair. His expression was harried as he took a purposeful step forward, and I was immediately rendered immobile under his poignant stare. "So stubborn."

"What do you call taking her to lunch with your parents then? What do you call putting your arm around her and holding her hand? What do you call _kissing her _in public, for everyone -including me- to see. Huh? What do you call that?" I cried, lower lip quivering. It was becoming increasingly harder to hold on to the anger I had started out with. I could feel it slipping through, being replaced by an overwhelming sadness that cut straight to the core.

"What do you call that?" I asked helplessly. Helplessly. For the first time in quite a long time . . .

Helpless.

"I wasn't cheating on you. I would _never _cheat on you. Not deliberately. Not like you think." His inky, beautiful eyes were so stark and open as they drilled into mine. He was trying. Really trying. But when had trying and hoping and wishing ever been enough?

"Then enlighten me," I suggested, laughing bitterly. "Tell me what I _should _have seen."

My breath caught in my throat, hovering there as he took that last small step; erasing any space between us. The tips of his shoes brushed against mine as he bent his head to make full eye contact with me. I could feel my fingers beginning to shake as he reached out and ran a thumb over my jawline. That was probably the prime moment to sucker punch him right in the mouth, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to do it. His gaze was intense, and I couldn't tear away from his sight even if I wanted to.

"My parents made me." He could tell I was beginning to object, because he cut me off instantly. "I know that's the sorriest excuse in the book, but you've met them. You know how . . . vulture-like they are. I guess they thought I wouldn't be with you for so long; like I was only doing it for the thrill of defying their wishes. They couldn't see how much I feel for you, Max."

"So what, they gave you some sort of ultimatum?"

"Exactly. They told me if I didn't break up with you they were going to cut off all my funds. I'd have no money," he explained, his forehead now resting on mine.

"And wouldn't that have hurt the pretty rich boy _so much_?" I frowned mock-pityingly.

"It would have hurt _us_. For the future. You aren't planning to go to college, which is fine. But I do. Guess where all the cash for that would go? Not to mention how much of a cushion that would have been anyway. I needed that money. You and I both know that."

Yeah, so maybe he had a point. But that was still no excuse by any means.

"Where does that stupid Red-Haired Wonder come in, then? What about _Lissa_?" I spat, finding enough courage to shove him back a few steps. He stumbled to a stop, running a hand through his shaggy hair.

"She was another added 'bonus' to the ordeal. Blame my mother. It was her idea. It was either Lissa or Brigid. I didn't have a choice. It's not like I enjoyed being in her company, and I sure as hell didn't like lying to you about it."

"Then why did you?" I demanded, sighing heavily. "Why didn't you just tell me what was going on?"

"And say what? What could I have _possibly _told you that would have done any good? As I said before, you're stubborn. You wouldn't have accepted it. You'd probably have gotten mad that I'd even consider it," he pointed out, resuming his previous position. His proximity made it hard to breathe, but he didn't seem to notice.

As it was, I didn't have enough wits about me to respond to that.

"Your whole life has been about nothing other than _right now_. That's not your fault. I'm capable of thinking of the future, though; of what's going to be best in the long run," he breathed, the warmth of his reassuring words washing over me.

"You should have told me," I repeated insistently, my brain trying to process his entire explanation.

"I know. It wouldn't have turned out well either scenario, though."

"I . . . I . . ."

I was at a loss. What was I supposed to say? Was I supposed to forgive and forget? Was I supposed to harden my resolve and turn the other way? . . . Was I even capable of doing the latter? There were too many questions swirling around in my mind and not enough space to think them through.

"Max."

I closed my eyes, hating the emotions the sound of my name coming from him elicited. It wasn't fair. He hurt me so terribly. He shouldn't be able to make me feel this way . . . so unsure and jumbled in the head.

"Max, open your eyes," he commanded softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

They fluttered open of their own accord, automatically responding to his order no matter how loud my conscious screamed for them to be still. I was immediately assaulted by the proximity he had gained, his lips just hovering over mine.

"Max, I . . . I've been trying to tell you this for so long. There was always something in the way, though. Always."

His scent washed over me from all directions as one hand rested on my cheek and the other on the small of my back; so clean and clear, like the air just after it's rained. I tried not to breathe it in too deeply. It was almost addictive, like a drug.

"Max Ride. Maximum. Whoever, it doesn't really matter. I . . . I l- . . ." He closed his eyes here, taking a deep breath as I watched on in abate interest. "I love you."

_I love you_.

No big speech, as was totally unnecessary. Just Fang. Simple. Perfect . . . And adding ten more loads of confusion to an already excessively large pile.

Then he kissed me, his lips first brushing mine lightly, increasing in pressure as I responded to his touch. My fingers found their way around his neck, as his guided me flawlessly into his safe, familiar embrace. Which was nice, but still; gah! Confusing.

I pulled away, hesitating. His slightly bewildered expression gazed down on me as I stepped back, trying to allow enough room between us for a few coherent thoughts to slip through.

"I need to think about this," I said slowly, but surely. His face fell, but was quickly replaced by a blank mask. He nodded, his eyes passing on a silent message of encouragement; that he understood.

Somewhat reluctantly I turned away, dragging my feet as I exited the parking lot. I could feel his burning stare on me the entire way, the remains of it lingering even as I turned into an alley that provided a shortcut home, and out of his sight.

I was almost to the other side when I heard a scuffle, instantly charging my senses into hyper drive. My reaction wasn't fast enough, though. In a split second I was on the ground, my head throbbing where it had been smashed in by an unidentified object. Knowing Fang was still somewhere nearby I yelled as loud as I could, my voice becoming muffled shortly after by a dirty hand at my mouth.

My vision tunneled, and the next thing I saw was a fractured version of the alley's brick wall, followed by a deep, never ending blackness.

**Authors Note: HahaHA. You guys probably thought I was going to let you off easy this time. No way! That's not any fun, now is it? :D**

**Also: a lot of you assumed correctly that his parents made him do it, but not for the reason you all thought. If you remember: Fang was acting weird when the story began. He didn't find out about his parents potentially adopting Angel and Gazzy unitl later, so that couldn't have been used as a threat to get him to do what they wanted.**

**So yeah.**

**P.S. If I wrote a book, would you buy it and .. I dunno .. start a fan club? ;) hahahaha. Kidding! (About the last part, I mean)**

**P.P.S. Someone just reviewed so it's now twenty two reviews for chapter twenty one . . . Oh well.**


	23. Distress

**Authors Note: Isn't it funny how when I get more reviews than usual and faster, I update quicker? Huh. Amazing ;)**

**Anyway, I love you guys and your reviews! You're awesome . . . just plain wonderful. A true joy to have as a reader. Ahem. I think I'm getting choked up a bit, hahah. CONTINUE.**

**Chapter Twenty Three**

_**Distress**_

That deep, never ending blackness was stark in contrast to the hospital room I was in now. All I could see was white, white, white. It seemed to stem from everything. The walls were washed in it, the tiles of the floor gleamed in it, the blankets pulled up to my waist were even the same pale color.

Did I ever mention how much I hated hospitals?

Closing my eyes once more I tried to block out the overwhelming brightness, willing myself to fall back asleep. What was done, however, was done. Curling deeper into the pillows propped under my head, I felt my eyes squeeze tighter together in concentration, as I tried to remember what exactly had woken me up.

I think it might have had something to do with the whole:

"Son, you need to take a break."

Shut up.

"No. I'm not leaving."

I'm _trying _to sleep.

"She hasn't woken up yet. I'm sure a few minutes outside of this room won't make much of a difference. Please. Being cooped up in here isn't doing your health any good. Go outside. Take a breather. Soak in some sunshine or something."

I need quiet.

"Why do you want me gone so badly? Is there something wrong with her?"

Keep your mouth shut.

"Max is fine. She took quite a bump to the head is all. Her brain is just trying to give her some recovery time. She'll be _fine_."

Then why don't you let me recover and _stop talking_?

"Look, with all due respect sir, I'm good where I am for now."

Where you need to be is _silent_.

"I'm sure she'll find you waiting by her bedside very chivalrous. I'm not sure her waking up to find you looking like that will give you any points, though."

I'm going to punch somebody.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

It means shut up, shut up, _shut up_.

"Well, when's the last time you showered?"

Ooh, burn. Now shut up.

Chair scraping. Footsteps. Door opening. Pause. Door closing.

. . . _Silence_.

Yeah, that might have been it.

Groaning I rolled flat onto my back, eyes fluttering open to take in the -_white_- plastered ceiling. Deciding sleep was futile I did a quick inventory check instead. Beneath the blanket my toes seemed to still be wiggling, my legs moving, and my hips swaying. I didn't have any broken fingers and my arms seemed in working order as well. I was a little sore though, and I could see patches of gauze sticking out from my hospital gown; places where I must have gotten knifed or something. _Beautiful_.

My stomach began gurgling, growling for food. I wondered briefly when they were planning on feeding me. My next thought though, was something more along the lines of: who the hell landed me in this place and why?

Sometimes my mind worked a little backwards. I'm sure the apparent smash to the head wasn't helping much, either.

"Oh good, you're awake," a pleasant voice said from the doorway. I looked up to see a young-ish looking man standing just inside the room, pulling the door shut behind him. Equipped with a white coat and an impeccably official looking clipboard, I was guessing he was my doctor.

"I thought so, too," I replied snarkily, adjusting the pillows behind me so I could sit up. My limbs ached as I moved, and I could feel my various wounds pricking. I was used to it from street fighting though, so it barely fazed me.

"They warned me you would be incredibly sarcastic and grumpy when you woke up," he said with a smirk, approaching my bedside. He fiddled with a few tubes, checking my vitals or something. I watched as he examined the dripping IV's, making a few notes on his clipboard as he went through the process.

"Yeah, well." I shrugged.

"That boy won't be very happy with me, though," he remarked, clicking the small flashlight he held. He pointed the light into my eyes, and I followed the beam like a good girl, although albeit a bit boredly.

"What boy?" I asked, pulling up my hospital gown like he motioned for me to do.

He began to peel away the bloodstained wrappings there as he responded: "Dark hair. Pretty big. Kind of scary, actually. Weird name. Something to do with a tooth . . .?"

"_Fang_," I breathed, biting my lip as the cold hair washed over the three jagged lines that started about mid-ribcage and ended at my waist. _Ouch_. That sucker had gotten me _good_. The cuts weren't very deep though, as far as I could tell. That must have been all he could get in before Fang showed up.

"Yeah, that's it. That kid didn't leave your side for the forty eight hours or so you were out cold. He didn't even do anything. He just sat in that chair and stared at you. Watched TV sometimes too, I guess. He even slept there. That's one dedicated boyfriend."

I didn't feel the urge to correct him.

We didn't talk much after that. I closed my eyes and leaned back, letting him do his job without further complaint, which was very unlike me. I kinda liked Dr. Lawrence, as his name tag called him, though. He wasn't like most doctors I had encountered, so it was the least I could do. Besides, he provided me with a lot of answers in a short amount of time.

I could feel myself wincing slightly every few seconds, as he applied the necessary medical remedies to my lacerations. Biting my lip, I trudged through it. There was no use crying and complaining. That didn't make the pain go away. When the last of the gauze was taped up tight and kissing my tortured skin though, I couldn't help but feel relieved.

"There you go, Ms. Ride. All set," he announced with a flourish, stepping back to admire his work. I tugged the gown back down to cover my exposed torso, curiously wondering why he didn't just have a nurse do this instead, if that was all that needed to be done.

"Thanks doc," I replied, not akin to questioning him.

"Well, somebody seems to be in a better mood," he commented, smiling genuinely. I rolled my eyes, allowing some of my good ole' teenage attitude to shine through. Wouldn't want him getting the wrong impression, or anything.

"I'll just go get your mom, and tell her you aren't showing any signs of amnesia. She'll probably be in to see you shortly," he informed me, heading for the door.

When the door had shut softly behind him I immediately sank back down, closing my eyes. A sudden wave of fatigue had hit me about mid-way through his inspection, and any moment of peace I got from there on out was welcome.

I was just beginning to drift into a fitful sleep when the creak of the door invaded my senses once more. Groaning, my eyes opened to slits, glaring at whoever had interrupted my napping. The minute I saw who it was though, my expression was wiped clean of any such emotion.

"Fang," I stated, fully alert now. When he heard my voice he hurried his pace, until he was standing right next to me, hands gripping the edge of the hospital bed in a death hold.

"Max," he said in much the same way, his tone gruff, but his eyes soft as he stared down at me. Then: "That son of a bitch doctor told me you weren't going to wake up while I was gone."

I laughed, throwing my head back. After a few minutes of this I managed to calm myself into a grin, reaching out to put my hand over his. Loosening his fingers from where they dug into the hard plastic of the rail I laced them through my own. A second after this I realized what I had done, but the subtle expression of elation on his face had me biting back any qualms towards my insintctual actions.

"How long have you been up?" he inquired, his usual cool, calm and collected exterior breaking through and settling into its normal place. I knew that as time wore on, his overly emotional facade would fade. I, personally, liked it better that way. Fang was more suited to being stony and silent.

"Not too long. He changed the dressings on my cuts, and that's about it," I explained, settling back down into a more comfortable position. Fang followed suit, perched on the edge of the mattress.

"I was worried about you," he admitted, hints of distress in his dark eyes. Other than that he seemed as perfectly placid as per usual. "I heard you yell, so I booked it towards where you disappeared. Whoever attacked you was too concealed for me to see who it was, though. They fled before I could do anything."

"So you didn't see who it was?" This made getting revenge a heck of a lot harder, especially since I had no idea who would have a personal vendetta against me all the way out here in Arizona. It's not like I had a lot of time to make enemies . . . yet.

"I would have followed him, but I was a little more concerned with the heavily bleeding, unconscious girl at my feet," he informed me with a smirk, nudging my shoulder.

I guess I could be thankful for that.

We lapsed into a comfortable silence, just staring at each other. I still didn't know what I was going to do about him, but for the time being it was easier to worry about other things. I'd try to figure the situation out at a point when I wasn't being hospitalized.

Suddenly he momentarily fiddled with a strand of blond hair that had fallen out of my ponytail, before tucking it behind my ear, his fingertips lingering on my skin for a few seconds longer than necessary. Leaning down he pressed his lips to mine, and I couldn't feasibly have any objections to that.

"The doctor said you stayed here the entire time I was out," I murmured between kisses, his silken lips trapping mine milliseconds after.

"Of course I did," he said nonchalantly, like it was to be expected of him.

For a moment I was able to forget about all the trouble still brewing between us, allowing myself to revel in the comfort he provided me with. This was Fang. There was still enough of the him I had known to salvage . . .

Maybe he hadn't really gone anywhere to begin with.

"Max," he whispered into my mouth.

"Hmh?"

"I love you."

I hesitated. "I-"

The door being pushed open cut me off, for which I was incredibly thankful. It was with much relief on my part, and a tad bit of reluctance on Fang's, that we pulled apart. He took a few safe steps away, still leaning on the bed.

A content looking Aunt Valencia appeared, comforted by whatever Dr. Lawrence must have told her . . . and speaking of the devil; he trailed in a few steps behind her, appearing a little more serene and professional than he did when handling me. I couldn't help but smirk a bit at this.

"Hey Aunt Val," I greeted her with a smile, allowing her to squeeze my hand. "Where's Mom? Isn't that who Doc was originally supposed to be getting?"

"She should be along in a few minutes," Aunt Val assured me, smoothing down my hair. I had to fight the urge to swat her hand away. She was probably going to be _way _over protective of me after this.

_Great_.

"Wait, what?" Dr. Lawrence interrupted, sounding confused. We all looked over at him, and he continued. "You're Valencia, aren't you?"

"Yes," she said slowly, brows furrowing. I was feeling about the same way.

"You're the one who donated the blood, right?" he asked, looking minutely anxious at this point. Glancing down he haphazardly flipped through the papers attached to his clipboard, flinging past charts with his scribbles on them.

"Yeah, I was the one. Rebecca didn't have the same blood type." Just as she was saying this, Mom appeared in the doorway, adding to the general hubbub and growing bewilderment of the entire room.

"What's going on?" she asked, stepping further inside. Her shoes clacked against the shining tiles. For some reason, that was something I took great clarity in. The sound her shoes made on the floor . . . Crazy.

"Well, I don't mean to distress anybody by any means, but according to the simple blood tests we had to take to find who had the proper types . . . Rebecca isn't her mother. Valencia is."

**Authors Note: Oh snap. I think I'm earning back my title of Queen of Cliffhangers. What do you think?**

**I swear if one person even hints at having seen this coming you're either a true psychic or you're lying! Besides incredibly minute and subtle hints at Max and Val being extremely similar, there was nothing to have provided you with any suspicion about it. NOTHING.**

**P.S. What are your feelings knowing (now) that this story is ending in a mere seven chapters?**


	24. Mourned

******Authors Note: Hey guys. So, I almost had a total break down a few days ago. Why, you ask? My laptop has a virus or something screwed up with it. I didn't have ANY of my files backed up, which was my mistake . . . so when EVERYTHING started to disappear I FLIPPED.**

******But it was okay, because I did a system recovery and got all the important stuff I really needed back, which is why you have a story that will thankfully be finished. If I were to have lost everything, I really don't know if I would have been capable of re-writing and such.**

******Yeah, so continue.**

******Chapter Twenty Four**

**__****Mourned**

To say all hell broke loose after that would be . . . wrong. In fact, everyone remained completely silent after the doctor's announcement. It didn't seem like any of us could find the words to respond. Eventually someone was going to have to say something, though. It might as well have been me.

"You're trying to say that . . . that Aunt Val . . . isn't really my aunt after all? That it's the other way around?" I inquired monotonously, loosely summarizing what he had just proposed. It was like I had two ends of a wire, and they just wouldn't fuse back together to get the current running smoothly again.

"Biologically, yes. We can do more extensive DNA testing . . . but I honestly don't think it's going to make a difference. You aren't Rebecca Ride's daughter. You're Valencia Martinez's," Dr. Lawrence said, sounding completely and genuinely truthful.

This wasn't a joke. Nobody was kidding here.

"There has to be . . . some mistake," Mom, or Aunt Rebecca, I suppose, insisted breathlessly. She looked like she had been hit by a two ton block of bricks; pale and swaying like she was dizzy. To further prove this she stumbled to the nearest chair, sinking into it like her legs had turned to jelly and couldn't hold her weight any longer.

"I . . . I guess we do have the same eyes," I muttered, my voice cracking slightly as I looked at Dr. Valencia Martinez . . . my mother.

With those words tears welled up in her said eyes, turning the dark brown a puddle of glistening moisture. Her hand found mine once more, gripping it tightly in hers. I could feel her fingers shaking as the weight of the situation finally began to crash around us.

Behind her I could see my not-so-much-mother's shoulders beginning to quake, her head buried in the safe confines of her hands. If I squinted close enough I could probably see the droplets of tears starting to climb through the cracks in her fingers.

Even I was finding it hard not to become overly emotional in light of this recent feat. I mean, it couldn't be possible. Maybe there _had _been a mistake. You don't just randomly find out you've been calling the wrong sister your mother for your entire life. How was it even possible?

I didn't realize I had said the last part out loud until Valencia's voice sprung up in answer.

"Did anyone ever tell you Rebecca and I were pregnant at the same time?" she asked, letting go of my hand in favor of planting herself in a comforting, protective stance over her younger sister. She draped an arm over Rebecca's shoulder, hugging her.

I shook my head. That was a negative.

"Well we were. The babies were even due on the same day. Nobody thought it would actually work out that way, but we both went into labor and were admitted into the hospital within a few hours of each other. It was nothing short of a miracle."

I bit down on my lip, wringing my hands slightly. I glared down at my intertwined fingers, unable to look anywhere else. Vaguely I could sense Fang hovering nearby, ready to step in if I needed him.

"You and your cousin were delivered within minutes of each other. About three, to be exact, if I remember correctly." At the end of this claim, I could hear Rebecca humming in agreement, the soft hiccuping of her silent sobs beginning to fade.

"That doesn't make any sense, though. Ella's younger than me, so you didn't raise a daughter my age."

There was a beat of solemn silence, then: "Yes she did," Rebecca said, her voice sounding strangled and waterlogged. "Well, she didn't _raise _a daughter."

"Then what _did _she _do_?"

"The baby identified as mine seemed perfectly healthy at birth . . . but they discovered she had some breathing problems almost immediately after. They put her on a machine for the first few days, but her lungs just weren't . . . they weren't equipped for living on her own." I could tell she was getting choked up, but I didn't know what to do about it. I was stuck, strapped to this hospital bed while my family mourned.

"What happened to her?" I was almost afraid to ask, but I knew it had to be done.

"She passed away on the fourth day. There was nothing anyone could have done. The little thing just wasn't ready to be brought into the world. On the outside, yes . . . but on the inside, she just hadn't grown enough."

It took me until the first tear leaked out of the corner of my eye to realize the source of my blurred vision. After that it was like a flood gate had opened, and the tears ran endlessly; dripping in a torrent down my face.

Fang was instantly at my side, pushing my head against his shoulder as his arms wrapped tightly around me. My silent cries were lost even more in the muffle of fabric the corner of his black, cotton shirt provided. I clung to it, my nails tearing into the cloth.

"Except it wasn't your baby," Rebecca spoke shakily, taking deep, heaving breaths between each word. "Somewhere along the way they got mixed up. You should have been taking home a clean, healthy infant. Instead you mourned the loss of a child while I basked in the life of mine. But it was my baby. It was _my baby _that died. Not yours."

They both dissolved into tears then, and there was nothing I could do but cry harder. Cry for the family I had lost. Cry for the past I could have had. Cry for the uncertainty of the future now that this secret had been unlocked and brought into the open.

"I stole everything from you," Rebecca sobbed.

"No. _No_. Don't you _ever _think that," Valencia insisted vehemently, her voice thick with tears. "This wasn't your fault. You couldn't have possibly had _any _control over it. Neither of us could. It just _happened_."

_It just happened_. Didn't everything? Things . . . they just happened. You didn't have any control over them. The universe and fate and destiny and all the nonsense . . . they worked in ways _they _wanted to work. No actions or feelings on our part could influence that in the end.

It just happens.

"So . . . Rebecca isn't my mother." Not a question. Just a fact. A small, simple fact.

"No. No, Max. I am," Valencia said, smiling through the liquid still drizzling over her chin.

"And Jeb . . . he isn't my father?"

"God, I'd hope not," Rebecca gave a snorting laugh, dabbing at the corner of her eye with a tissue she had magically conjured up.

"Angel and Gazzy . . . they . . . they aren't my brother and sister then?" This had the full potential to knock me right back into hysterics again. To even so much as consider those two children anything other than my siblings almost made me physically sick to the stomach.

"I . . . no. Not biologically."

I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes, sighing repeatedly; as if that would stop the conundrum of emotions whirling inside me. Everything, which was previously so black and white, was suddenly transforming into a kaleidoscope of colors; and all it was doing was blinding me.

Blinding me to everything.

**- }{ -**

Facing Angel and Gazzy after this whole ordeal was going to be the hardest part, but I knew I was going to have to do it eventually. Might as well get it over with as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

I found I was truly at a loss of words though, sitting in front of the two curly, blond-headed siblings. The boy and girl I had risked my life for countless times, and would always do so for. Yet the mirror looks of sadness and bewildered confusion on their faces was enough to stop me dead in my tracks.

"So I'm assuming Aunt Va- I mean . . . my mom, told you guys?" I asked, collapsing heavily onto the chair adjacent to the couch. Their eyes followed me, wide open and endlessly blue. I had practically raised them, and now somebody was trying to tell me they were just my cousins? No. I wouldn't settle for that.

Their nods met my words.

"And how do you . . . feel . . . about that?" What was I even saying?

They glanced at each other, passing some brother and sister sort of telepathy between them. I observed closely, waiting for one of them to break the silence that had settled over our little trio. It took a few minutes, but Angel finally spoke up, her voice small and quivering.

"You aren't really our sister." She sounded so wilted and close to tears. It broke my heart, in a totally cliche way.

Immediately I felt myself standing, taking a few steps until I was at the edge of the couch. I kneeled in front of them, taking one of their hands in each of my own.

"Don't _ever _think that, okay?" I said sternly, narrowing my eyes at them. "You will _always _be my siblings, no matter what some stupid doctor says. What does DNA really mean? We may not be directly related by blood, but that means _nothing_. Do you think I'm just going to give up on you guys after everything we've been through?"

"But won't you kind of, I don't know, love us less then?" Gazzy inquired, bowing his head sheepishly. I disentangled the hand that was holding his, smacking his cranium to the side lightly. He and Angel laughed a bit, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Of course not. In fact, I love you two more than _ever_. None of this matters. It's the past, and what's to come in the future that counts. I don't care what my blood says. I don't listen to anybody but myself," I joked, moving to sit in between them. "And what I'm saying is you _are _my brother and sister, just like you've always been, and always _will _be. That I can promise you."

Our bonding moment was broken by the entrance of Ella, the space around her eyes red and barely dried tear tracks still winding down her cheeks. The grin on her face and utter look of elation told that they were for a happy reason, though.

"Can you guys give us a minute?" I asked Angel and Gazzy, shooing them from the room. They scampered away, probably going to go involve themselves into some sort of trouble.

After that I turned to face Ella, giving her a tender smile as she stared with a slight look of awe and wonder at me.

"You're my sister," she whispered, her lips stretching up even more at the sound of it out loud.

"It appears that way, yeah."

"I've always wanted you to be my sister . . . and now you are," she murmured, shaking her head like it was completely incredible and unbelievable; and please oh please can somebody just pinch her now before she got too used to the idea?

"I don't know why you'd want that. In case you didn't notice, I'm a little bossy and controlling," I pointed out.

"Yeah," she said with a shrug, rubbing at her eyes. "But I like it that way."

It was about then that she noticed the bag in the corner, and realized there was something going on in this situation that she had yet to learn. My smile lessened at her inquiring look, turning into a minute frown. Her expression soon followed suit.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" she demanded, though she didn't look much surprised, like it was to be expected.

"Yeah, I am."

"Why?" She looked sort of defeated, like she knew it was no use to argue. Once I made my mind up on something, you'd be hard pressed to get me to change it.

"I just found out the mother who put me through hell for years and then managed to bounce back into a semblance of normal isn't actually my mother. That my aunt, who apparently _isn't _my aunt after all, is. I can manage a lot of things, but this is something I need a little time and space to cope with."

"So where are you going, then?" she asked with a sigh, running a hand through her dark hair.

"Back to New York."

"What about Fang?" _Wasn't that the golden question_?

"Fang and I . . . we'll work things out."

She smiled sadly, her eyes wide and luminous. "So that's it then? You're just going to pack up all your things and go back?

"Yeah, pretty much," I acknowledged with a nod.

"I'm going to miss you."

I was going to miss her, too. I was going to miss _everybody_, but there were some decisions that needed to be made, no matter how hard their conclusions were.


	25. Trust

**Chapter Twenty Five**

_**Trust**_

"You don't have to leave so soon." 

I glanced up from where I had been stuffing the last of my things into an already entirely too full duffel bag. Looking around, the absence of my things had somewhat cleared up the clutter in Nudge's already too small bedroom. 

"Yes, I really do," I replied, a bit condescendingly, as I gestured to the space around us. She seemed to get the point from where she was leaning in the doorway, but that didn't cease the frown tugging at the corners of her lips; forcing the contours of her forehead to dip into a scowl. 

"But I'm going to miss having you as a roommate!" she insisted, dropping to her knees on the carpet beside me. Her fingers closed around the zipper I had just managed to close, hesitating like she was contemplating ripping it open again. 

My glare stopped her advances. 

"I'm going to miss you too, Nudge." Maybe not the endless chatter at all hours of the night, but on a broader scale I was going to miss her nonetheless. "But it's not like I'm leaving New York again. Just this apartment. I'll see you as much as I did before all this nonsense happened." 

I hefted the bulging bag over my shoulder, keeling over slightly at the weight of it pressed against me. Nudge gave me a wane smile, picking up my other -and infinitely smaller- tote. She trailed after me as I shuffled into the main room, where her mom was waiting with the door open. I shot her a grateful smile as I passed. 

Thankfully, the elevator in Nudge's building actually worked, compared to the rusting, hulking mass of useless metal in my old complex across the street. It made the trip to the bottom floor so much easier, although the claustrophobia from such a confined space was tickling at the back of my mind by the time we reached the lobby. Shaking off the itching feeling I made my way to the front entrance, hearing a scuffle as the others followed in pursuit. 

I paused at the door, allowing my bag to slide off my shoulder and onto the dirty tile with a thud. Rubbing the space where the strap had been biting into my skin I offered up a smile for Nudge and her mother. 

"Thanks again for letting me stay with you guys. I really owe you." 

"Don't be silly. It was our pleasure," Nudge's mom assured me, pulling me into a warm hug. "You're welcome _anytime_." 

Nudge nodded enthusiastically along with the previous words, wrapping her own arms around my waist. Yeesh. They acted like I was shipping myself back to Arizona, instead of just across town. It's not like they could have enjoyed my company _that _much. 

"Thank you," I repeated, bending to pick up my bag again. I backed into the door, forcing it open with my body. Nudge scurried out ahead of me, while her mom propped the door open so I could walk down the steps. 

My heart _might _have skipped a tiny, totally cliche beat at the sight of Fang leaning on the fender of his shiny, sleek black car. His hands had drifted, as usual, into the front pockets of his jeans, and his hair hung in his dark eyes. When I descended to the sidewalk he shoved off, loping to my side. 

His fingers brushed mine for a second too long as he pried the hefty bag from my grip, slinging it over his own shoulder. His gaze lingered on mine before he turned and chucked my things into the back seat, meeting resistance from nothing else as it slid across the smooth leather. 

When he turned to look back at me his eyebrow was raised, and his obsidian eyes seemed to ask whether or not that was all I had. I nodded in response, ducking into the passenger seat when he graciously opened the door for me. 

Not long after that we pulled away from Nudge's apartment, her waving figure growing smaller until it turned into nothing but a tiny speck. Then we turned a corner and she completely vanished. It was about then that I realized I was officially going to be living on my own. No parental figures, even as trashed as my mother had been, anywhere in sight. It was every eighteen year old's dream. I couldn't help but figure in how lonely I was probably going to be, though. 

The car ride was completely silent after that, other than the radio pulsing with static at a low volume in the background. At some point Fang had disengaged one of his hands from the wheel, wrapping it around mine. It didn't occur in the slightest to me to pull away. Even after everything that had happened, simple things like this were too much of an instinct between him and I to find uncomfortable. 

That didn't mean I fully trusted him, but I was learning. If I could somewhat forgive my mother after everything she had put our family through, then surely I could extend the same chance to Fang over what was mostly just a gigantic misunderstanding. 

"Here we are," he murmured, the soothing sound of his voice low and smooth. He parked fluidly in front of the tall brick building, behind a flashy red car; its paint job disguising the old model. 

The newly paved walkway led to a wrought iron gate, glistening onyx in the mid afternoon sun. I pushed through, and it swung shut without a sound behind Fang. I offered to take my bags from him, but he refused. Normally I would have insisted, but meh; let him do all the work. It didn't hurt me any. 

Mounting the steps I once again marveled at how nice the entire establishment was. A strand of ivy clung to the bricks, riding high up the wall. The red and brown shone dully in comparison. All in all, for how well kept the building was, the price I was able to rent my apartment at was what one would consider a steal. 

Inside, the small lobby-like area was barren of any people. Free from interruptions I headed immediately for the elevators, pressing the button for the fifth floor as soon as Fang was at my side. The doors slid shut, and I swallowed thickly. I'd probably be taking the stairs more from here on out. My nerves couldn't take so many closed spaces. 

"Do you have the key?" Fang inquired once we were safely out of that metal contraption, and walking down the padded hallway. 

"Yeah," I replied, fishing around in my pocket until my fingers came in contact with the cold surface of the key. I pulled it out just as we reached my new apartment. I fit the key easily into the lock, listening for the tell-tale click as I twisted it. The door swung smoothly in front of me, and I stepped over the threshold. 

The space before me wasn't completely devoid of possessions. I had gone shopping the week before, albeit a bit stingily. I didn't want to blow all the money I had saved up from the gymnastics competition. Thus I was accommodating myself with the barest essentials. Nothing spectacular, just normal things you'd find in a home. Once I got a real, stable job and was making enough money to live by I'd decorate a little better. For now though, it was up to Max's taste and standard only. 

Fang's sudden presence behind me made me jump, as I realized he had wandered back from disposing of my things in the small bedroom. I scowled as I turned to face him, prepared to scold him for sneaking around like that. His smirk made me bite my tongue though, because I knew that's what he was anticipating me to do. 

"So you're all set then?" he asked, pushing a strand of dark blond hair behind my ear as it unraveled itself from my pony tail. His fingers didn't leave my skin, tiptoeing down my jaw and onto my neck. 

"I think so, yeah," I responded, my breath catching as he moved closer, the palm of his other hand flattening against the small of my back. I drifted closer to him, curling the fabric of his typically black t-shirt between my nails. 

"Good," he whispered, his breath fanning out onto my face. Our lips touched briefly before I spun out of his grasp, dancing out if his reach. He mock growled, but I stayed persistently at arms length. 

Eventually our games subsided, and I plopped onto the couch. After a few minutes he gravitated there as well, pulling me to him so that my cheek pressed against his shoulder. His fingers tapped all along my arm for some time after that, silence filling the empty spaces around us. Surprisingly enough, he was the one to break it. 

"I told my parents." 

I froze, his words having quite an affect under the current circumstances. 

"They weren't very happy," he continued, after my baffled silence ran on. 

Still, I couldn't find the words to contribute. 

"They kind of . . . kicked me out." 

Now _that _little tidbit of information kind of had the desired effect. 

"They _what_?" I deadpanned, sufficiently gobsmacked. I'm sure my jaw was swinging to the floor at this point. I mean, I can imagine they would be a bit put off by their son's decision to be with me . . . but to go as far as forcing their beloved child onto the streets? That I would _never _have seen coming. 

"I don't even care. I'd rather do that then go along with their stupid games any longer. We both saw how well that worked out last time," he insisted, pressing his lips to my hair. I relaxed minutely at the gesture. 

"Yeah, but . . . what about the money? Isn't that the whole reason you went along with their stupid Lissa thing anyway?" I demanded, my brow furrowing under this new insight. 

"Max, I've been siphoning money out of their account for me since the day I turned eighteen and had access to it. Not a lot at one time. They'd get suspicious then. But enough. They just kept putting more in, filling the holes. God knows what they thought I was buying," he scoffed, tightening his grip on me. 

"Where did you put the money after you took it?" 

"A different account. Under _my _name. They had no idea it existed. That is until I transferred the entire amount of theirs to it, then told them I was in love with you; that I had always been in love with you and would continue to be in love with you for the rest of my life." 

I'm guessing that's about when the shit hit the fan. 

"What a romantic gesture," I teased, elbowing him in the ribs. I twisted my head around to face him, smiling at the barely concealed twinkle in his now molten eyes. I brushed my lips against his in a soft kiss, producing a crooked smile out of him. 

"Yeah. That's just the kind of guy I am," he replied sarcastically, pulling me back for another, much more lingering kiss. 

"So where are you going to stay, then?" I mumbled when we separated, running my fingers through his dark hair. 

"I don't know. Probably with Iggy. His parents didn't like mine that much anyway. I'm sure they'll be more than willing to let me stay after they hear what they did." 

I bit my lip, hesitating before my next words. "Well . . . you know, you could always just stay here. I could use a roommate to relieve some of that rent pressure and all." 

Too much time was passing as I waited for his response, and I couldn't help but worry that I had said the wrong thing. 

"Do you want me to stay here?" he finally asked, something unidentifiable in his tone. I raised my eyebrows as I shifted, pulling my legs up to rest under my chin so that I was facing the side of his profile. He tilted his head back to look at me. 

"Would I have offered if I didn't want you to?" I retorted, pointing out what should have been the obvious. 

And that's how I got my first roommate . . . who also happened to be my boyfriend. 

Upon agreeing to let Fang live here though, I didn't anticipate him being . . . gone . . . so much. It reminded me of when he was sneaking around behind my back to please his parents; so forgive a girl for getting her guard up, but his behavior was just, _again_, becoming too suspicious to ignore. 

So imagine my surprise when, a few weeks later, he came stumbling into the apartment at two in the morning with a busted lip, an already darkening bruise along his jaw, and a profusely bleeding cut across his forehead. 

I doubt someone like Lissa could have done such damage, so that theory was out the window, at least. 

"Fang!" I exclaimed in shock, jumping to my feet. The muted glow of the television wasn't quite enough to see by, so I automatically flicked the overhead light on, my retinas searing at the sudden brightness. "What _happened _to you?" 

He just groaned in response, looking even more haggard in the light. Ignoring me he shuffled to the bathroom, wincing as he glanced in the mirror. I watched from a safe distant for about . . . say, two point five seconds before I intervened. 

I gripped his bicep, tugging him away from the sink. As gently as I could I nudged him until he complied to sitting on the edge of the bathtub. Not saying anything -for the time being- I rifled around in the medicine cabinet. After gathering all my supplies I set out to cleaning the cut on his forehead, pressing a bandage to it when I was done. He watched me silently as I worked, never wincing in the slightest as I tended to his assorted wounds. 

When I was finished I stepped back, placing my hands on my hips as I narrowed my eyes at him. Not saying anything I waited for his confession, knowing that my stance was demanding an explanation. After a moment of staring at his callused hands he sighed, meeting my gaze blankly. 

"Well . . .?" I prodded, cocking my head to the side. 

"I had a fight," he said shortly, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand. Yawning he checked his watch. Ha. Like he was getting out of this anytime soon. I didn't care how tired he was. He was going to elaborate whether he wanted to or not. 

"Well obviously," I stated, rolling my eyes. "Why did you get into a fight with someone? And more importantly, _who _did you get into a fight with?" 

Only when I saw the resigned look in his eyes did I realize he might not have been talking about some random scuffle. 

"Can't we talk about this in the morning? As you can see, I've kind of had a rough night." He gestured to himself, coming to a towering stand. Moving to exit the bathroom, I slid to block his advances, barring the doorway resolutely. 

"Are you . . . street fighting again?" I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest. 

Another heavy exhale blew past his lips, and it was all the unspoken answer I needed. 

"Are you _crazy_? Why would you do that? _When _did you start doing that?" There were too many questions I needed answered directly, and not enough commitment to the topic of conversation from Fang. 

"Look, relax," he commanded softly, tugging my elbows so that my arms loosened and unfolded from their place across my chest. "It's not that big of a deal." 

"Like hell it isn't! When did you start street fighting again?" I asked persistently, not caving to his means to distract me. 

He closed his eyes, rubbing his temple before lacing my fingers in his. "After you left. I needed something to channel my frustration into. It was easier to fall back into old habits. Fighting is fighting. They were more than happy to have me return." 

"Why didn't you stop when I came back then?" 

"I have to finish what I started," he insisted tiredly. 

"No, actually, you don't. It's really very easy. All you do is not go back, and then BAM! You're retired from street fighting again. No worries. No life threatening situations or chances to get _seriously _hurt." I could hear the edge coming into my voice, and I knew he sensed it as well. 

Suddenly I was enveloped in his arms, my face smashed against his hard chest. I lifted my head, looking up at him through my eyelashes. He dropped a kiss on my forehead, then my nose, and finally my mouth. 

"I'm not going to get hurt. Trust me." 

_Trust _. . . funny how that always came back to bite you. 

**Author's Note: I shall now give you some smartie credits that you guys deserve. I've pretty much had this entire story planned out before I actually began writing anything, so the fact that you all were predicting things at earlier stages that I hadn't even begun to introduce yet , is pretty darn genius-like. The whole Fang street fighting again is only one of the numerous twists some of you have managed to weedle out.**

**Speaking of: opinions on how this could possibly turn out? I'm interested to see what you come up with, and how many of you are accurate. SO, um, REVIEW! Thanks (:**

**P.S. Best book and/or piece of FF work you've read so far this summer? **


	26. Erupted

**Author's Note: At this point in time, I don't really care about squeezing as many reviews as I can out of you guys. I'd like to have everything posted before I go back to school, which is in about a month (AHHHH). Hopefully I'll just wrap everything up within the new couple weeks. Maybe within THIS week. Depends on if I'm feeling generous ;)**

**Chapter Twenty Six**

_**Erupted**_

Walking out of my room, dragging my feet as I went, I rubbed the remains of sleep from my eyes. Yawning tiredly I passed the couch, where Fang was sprawled out, his head buried in his pillow. A blanket was twisted around his unconscious form, trailing mostly along the edge of the sofa and onto the ground. When I breezed past he stirred, becoming alert at the sound of my footsteps. 

Knowing he'd join me soon enough, I walked into the kitchen area, my socks sliding on the smooth tile. My stomach growled continuously as I rummaged around the refrigerator for something to eat. 

I was just pulling the carton of eggs from its shelf when a warm, significantly tanner than mine, hand reached around my torso and closed around my wrist. I paused, glancing over my shoulder at the culprit. Fang smirked at my expression, though his eyes reflected something infinitely more wary. 

"What?" I asked blatantly, tugging out of his grasp. I set the carton on the counter beside the stove, bending to retrieve a pan from the cabinet. 

"You shouldn't be cooking," he stated, sounding amused. 

Once again he moved to block my advances, directing his body so that no matter where I turned, I couldn't reach the stove. I huffed at this, placing my hands on my hips. He crossed his arms over his broad chest in retaliation. 

"Where's the logic in that?" I demanded, taking note of the sleepy look in his eyes, and the utterly adorable disarray of his hair. It stuck up in all the perfect directions, flawlessly mussed so that it looked like he had done it on purpose. 

"Because I've had your cooking . . . and it's horrible," he answered sincerely, with a pitying look. Well, don't try to spare my feelings or anything. 

"What are you _talking _about?" I was, quite honestly, astonished. "I've cooked for Angel and Gazzy for years. They've never once complained!" 

"That's because they didn't know any better," he supplied, thinking this a suffice explanation for his claim. 

"I am _not _a bad cook," I insisted hotly, not wavering in the slightest. 

"Yes, you really are." It didn't appear that he was going to give up either. Good thing I was so incredibly stubborn he'd eventually cave just so he didn't have to hear me defend my honor any longer. 

"Well, I'm not a gourmet chef or anything, but neither are you!" 

"_Max_," he drew my name out slowly, trying a different tactic. He grabbed my waist, forcing me to take a step closer. After I was in his range he loosely placed his arms around my hips. "It's not necessarily a _bad _thing. I can fend well enough for myself, so it's okay." 

Up this close, I could see his injuries from the night before more clearly. My brow furrowed at the ugly bruise marring his jaw, and I knew the bandage on his forehead shielded something much less appealing to the eye. Fortunately enough, his wounds gave me sudden inspiration. 

"Oh yeah? So I'm just a horrifically abominable cook?" I clarified, raising my eyebrow while still trying to look like the news had truly put me off. There was no use in him getting suspicious before I dropped the bomb. 

"Pretty much, yeah," he agreed without hesitation, which made me want to punch him in the gut, but I had to reign in the urge. The physical violence could come later, I reassured myself. 

"Well in that case . . ." I said with a frown, that slowly morphed into a sly grin as I continued to speak. "I'll be cooking _all _your meals from here on out." 

"Wha-?" he began indignantly, but I cut him off. 

"Just until you stop street fighting," I said, although I'm sure the restriction didn't appease him any more than the simple fact of me cooking his food did. At those words he brushed a light finger over his busted lip, like he was remembering the blow that delivered it. 

"Max." 

"Fang." 

He rolled his eyes. "You're ridiculous." 

"You're an idiot," I reciprocated. 

"I don't even understand why you're so against this. We _both _used to do it all the time," he pointed out with a sigh, though he did move from in front of the stove. I gave myself little time to be triumphant, though. 

"Because, in case you didn't notice, I _had _to. But I _don't _have to anymore, and neither do you. There's no point in going and getting beat up every night for no purpose whatsoever!" Why was he being so dense? I really thought street fighting had been in my past, but it seemed to be popping up more than intended. 

"I do _not _get beat up," he said blankly, though there was a smudge of defensiveness in his tone. His dark eyes were hardening, becoming lifeless. He was shutting down so that I couldn't get an adequate response out of him. 

I turned my back to him, so that he couldn't see the way my eyes pinched shut and my mouth sealed into a thin line. Gritting my teeth I cracked an egg into the pan, sloshing in some milk as an afterthought so I could make them scrambled. As the heat on the burner intensified I deemed it appropriate to speak again. 

"Fine. Do whatever you want Fang. I'll remember my opinion means nothing next time." 

Silence. Then: "Max, you know that's not what I meant." 

I shrugged, carefully concealing my emotions with a mask that could rival Mr. Emotionless himself. Trying to control my forcefulness, I grabbed a plate, dumping the contents of the pan onto it. Without sparing him another glance I exited as gracefully as possible, disappearing into my room. He could make his own breakfast. No way was I sharing my eggs with him. 

The, admittedly, first perfect batch I had ever made.

**- }{ -**

It wasn't that hard to track him down after that. All I had to do was ask around a little. I knew they'd be meeting up around the old haunts anyway. It was just a matter of talking to the right people. Those who weren't out for my blood, for instance. 

I wasn't really sure what I was planning to do exactly, when I got there. Or what my reaction was going to be for that matter. I hadn't been put into a situation like I knew it was going to be in so long, that I wasn't sure how I was going to cope. I just had to hope instinct would take over and do the rest for me. 

When I slipped through the warehouse doors, I was immediately buffeted by the overwhelming stench that permeated from every inch of space around me. It was a mix of rust, stale air and drunken men. A beautiful combination . . . if you were insane. 

Already the floor was littered with crushed cans and bottles of alcohol, the remains of the unidentified liquid sprinkled throughout. I carefully picked my way through the wreckage, trying to make myself as unassuming and invisible as possible. 

Unfortunately, a young girl in the midst of totally smashed men wasn't the best cover. 

Wandering, groping hands found me at every turn. My face was set in a permanent scowl/glare combo by the time I had made it to the front. My teeth ached in their clenched position, and I fought down bile as dirty fingers brushed against me. I was going to snap. Soon. 

My vision was suddenly filled with Fang, and I quickly ducked my head, letting my hair fan out into my eyes. He was leaning casually directly across from me, his wrathful, dark gaze sorting out the audience. Mercifully, he didn't take notice of me, as I used the two burly men in front of me as partial shields. 

"Alright, alright everybody. Settle down, settle down," a booming voice shot out above the general commotion of the crowd. The words only spurred a louder uproar, that eventually dulled into a low buzz. 

"Good, good. We have a recently _un_retired champion with us tonight. So let's not waste any more time. Who's got the guts to take on _The Shadow_?" The announcers voice turned menacing, taking on an almost growling quality. 

Guys jostled their buddies, cackling madly and trying to goad them into stepping up for the challenge. I let this go on for a few minutes, just observing. When nobody came forward, I decided I'd save the fools some embarrassment. 

Shoving my way through the last steps, I hopped into the center of lights, making sure everybody could see me. I smirked as I shouted: "I think I'd like to take a shot at it." 

Fang's glare trained on me was murderous, and I had to swallow down the urge to laugh. I could sense the confusion waving through the crowd. Some cheered, a part of their intoxicated brains vaguely recognizing me. Others were bewildered by the sudden involvement of a simple girl. 

"It can't be!" The short, stocky announcer seemed in just as much awe. "Gentlemen, it seems revered fighter Maximum has returned for a _rematch_." 

Nothing could contain the uproar of the crowd now. Screams and cat calls filled the air, surging forward deafeningly. People lurched forward, scrambling for a better view of what was sure to be a momentous match. 

"Max, what the _hell _do you think you're doing?" Fang demanded, his voice dark to match the inferno in his midnight eyes. He stood centimeters from me, glaring harshly down his nose. I smiled sweetly in response, patting his shoulder. 

"I just thought that since you liked it so much, maybe I should give it another try. See what I was missing," I replied lightly, grinning cheekily, much to his abhorrence. I could feel myself crawling up under his skin. 

"I'm not going to fight you, so you might as well get out of here." 

"But Fang, I came here to fight. If I can't fight you . . . I'll just have to fight someone else." I said the last part loud, so that my offer reached the crowd. By their cheers, they seemed to like that idea just fine. In fact, someone was already popping up to take a go at it. Wonderful. 

"This is stupid. You're only doing this because you think you have something to prove. Let's go home. Now." Touchy, touchy. His tone was commanding, leaving no room for excuses or questions. Too bad I took orders from no one but myself. 

I pointed to the poor sucker who was already preparing to get whooped by yours truly. His brown hair was cut short, his eyes matching the shade exactly. He wasn't tall, and he wasn't short. He wasn't totally built, but he wasn't necessarily slim either. All in all, he was your Average Joe. Incredibly unassuming and blendable. I couldn't even place him in an age rage, upon looking at him. 

"You should probably get out of the way," I suggested to Fang, who looked like he was considering strangling me in response. 

Reluctantly he shuffled to the side, hovering near enough to intervene if necessary. I don't know what he thought was going to happen. It's not like I was a complete newbie at this. Sure, I was a little out of practice. Fighting was practically ingrained in my brain, though. It was instinct. I couldn't unlearn it no matter how much I could possibly want to. After endless years and years of it, it stuck. At one point not too long ago it had been my entire life. He seemed to be forgetting that. 

I shrugged my jacket off, leaving me in nothing but my shorts and a tank top. I chucked it at Fang, and he caught it easily in one hand, slinging it over his shoulder. His fists were turning white at the pressure they were clenched at, and I rolled my eyes. Over protective, much? 

Slowly I twisted on my heel to face my opponent, who was already staring at me blankly. He didn't look tipsy in the slightest, standing straight with his arms hanging loosely at his sides. He followed my every movement with his eyes, and I realized he couldn't possibly have been drinking. His senses were perfectly alert. 

Well, this would be interesting then. 

I stalked forward, cocking my head to the side. I circled him, just observing. He didn't move, looking straight ahead as I made my rounds. His fingers twitched, like they were aching to do something. Fine then. I wouldn't waste any more time. 

There was absolutely no change in my movements. He couldn't have possibly seen it coming, as my fist struck out hard and fast; connecting with his temple harshly. He rocked to the side with the force of the blow, nearly toppling over. Quickly enough he righted himself, something sparking behind his heavy lidded eyes. 

Tauntingly I swung again, my knuckles kissing his forehead as he ducked, striking out a punch of his own; faster than I would have anticipated. I took the blunt force of the heel of his palm into my stomach, grunting. I had underestimated his strength. 

That was my first mistake. 

After that the tension only escalated. It seemed that every blow I delivered was reciprocated quickly after by this man that I had previously considered an easy defeat. The tables continued to shift in either favor, never staying too long in one. 

As we fought, exchanging punches and kicks, I could feel exhaustion creeping up on me. Starting out I hadn't really factored in my overall physical capabilities. My breathing was becoming more ragged, wheezing through my aching chest. Muscles bunched painfully, making it harder to move. I was such an idiot, charging off into this when I was nowhere near in shape. 

That was my second mistake. 

I did my best to knock him off his feet. It seemed that as time wore on though, my hits were missing their mark more and more. I'd aim for a sucker punch to his nose, and end up barely clipping his jaw. Kicking his legs out from under him was becoming a useless attempt as well, as I felt my strength waning. 

He swiped suddenly, his nails raking against my arm as I raised it to shield my face. No doubt he was aiming for my eyes. The blood that trickled from the four thin lines was enough to give me motivation to prosper. 

That was _his _mistake. 

You could say my next move was a . . . low blow, but I wasn't taking any chances. Without hesitation I popped a fist into his temple, stepping dangerously close as he shook his head to recover. Not wasting another second I grabbed his shoulders forcefully in a vise grip, kneeing him so hard he probably wouldn't be supplying someone with a baby anytime soon. 

_Go Max, go Max_. 

He let out a satisfying groan, dropping to the floor like a two ton of rocks. Bending over his middle he continued complaining, and I smirked heavily. I'm going to take that as submission, and officially say I've won. 

That was my final mistake. 

Without any sort of warning he sprung up, a pained look on his face, but standing nonetheless. I was too surprised to move at the time, just staring as he hobbled a step closer. Then with a cobra strike he drew something from his pocket; something that glinted briefly silver in the bright white overhead lights, before it plunged right into the spot where my now scarred wounds from Arizona resided. 

My last thought before the blazing hot pain in my side erupted and completely took over my senses was how odd it was that he would drag a knife down the same place I had been cut just a month or so before. 

**Author's Note: Oh Max. Hehehehe. Review?**

**P.S. Assuming that most of you have yet to attend, what colleges do you want to go to? I was talking about it with my mom even though I still have quite a ways to go.**


	27. Consumed

**Author's Note: **_**AND **_**we're rolling. Three more chapters left? WHOOP.**

**Chapter Twenty Seven**

_**Consumed**_

_It's cold. Really, _really _cold. That's the first thing I noticed. Then how white everything was, spanning on for miles and miles. Eventually it reached a formidable wall where jagged peaks of gray rock could be seen. The mountain range sprung up from the long plain of flat, powdered ground in anything but gentle slopes. The lowest peak seemed like nothing less than an intimidating cliff face from my perspective so far away.  
_

_I could only imagine what it looked like up close.  
_

_After observing this fits of shivers wracked my body, my teeth chattering at such a speed I hardly noticed the clacking of them striking together. My thin t-shirt and cotton pants were in no way fitting for the weather, and the icy wind snaking past only made matters worse.  
_

_I was sitting, half immersed in a drift of snow. Snow. That's what all the whiteness was. That's what was biting at my toes, and every other part of my body for that matter, turning my skin black and blue and a vulgar purple shade that made my stomach flip nauseously. It was like I could visibly see my usually peach colored flesh stained with the unnatural shades, starting at the tips of my fingers and toes; like blood running sluggishly through my veins.  
_

_Hypothermia. I was going to die of hypothermia. It wasn't like I had any hope of salvation this far from any civilization. There wasn't a living thing in sight . . . and it was so cold . . . and I was tired. Really, really tired.  
_

_My aching eyes blinked shut of their own accord, my frozen lashes brushing against my cheekbones; dropping bits of tinkling ice onto my face. Even my breathing began to slow, the thudding of my heart diminishing every second that passed.  
_

_The ground was soft too; like a nice, downy bed. In fact, it really wasn't even so freezing anymore. Maybe I was getting used to it. The temperature seemed much more manageable now. So maybe I would just lay down . . . right here . . . and sleep for awhile. Then I could think about ways to save myself. Yeah. That was a . . . good . . . idea.  
_

_I instinctively knew when my heart stopped beating altogether.  
_

_Then everything around me seared in a white hot heat, and my eyes flashed open. The intensity of the fire dulled as my gasps relaxed, the comforting sound of my pulse filling my ears. I was alive. I wasn't trapped in some arctic hell, I was . . .  
_

_In the desert.  
_

_At first I couldn't see anything but cloudless blue sky. I was laying on my back, my fingers sifting through the coarse sand all around me. When I had gained control of my heartbeat again I slowly sat up, glancing all around.  
_

_The land was dry and cracked, flat just like the frozen tundra I had recently inhabited. Sand, which was really just crumbles of the dirt ground, blew along with the lazy wind. Cacti stuck up in every direction, along with the colorful blooms of desert flowers. I didn't see any rattlesnakes sunning themselves on rocks, so I was clear on that.  
_

_In the distance, much like the snowy mountains from previous, a high outcropping of dusty red and brown spikes reached into the sky. Some of their tops formed plateaus, skimming the heavens just the same.  
_

_And the heat. Oh, the heat was stifling. The sun sat high in the sky, basking its volcanic glow onto the land beneath. It made the air dry and stuffy; hard to breathe. It wasn't life threatening though; not immediately at least, so I liked it much better.  
_

_Still, I had to get out of here. Somewhere safe; where there was food and water. I wouldn't last very long all the way out here without it. Which begged the question, how did I arrive here in the first place?  
_

_Sighing I pushed myself to my feet, bits of rock and dirt sticking to my palms. As I swept them away I began to walk; in a direction I somehow identified as north. I didn't know how I knew, but I did. It was . . . instinct; like I had some sort of internal compass pushing me towards a certain path.  
_

_I didn't question it. It wasn't like I had much of a choice in the matter.  
_

_As I traversed across the wide open expanse of land, giving the cacti a wide berth, it became increasingly clear that there was an unknown pressure on my back. I rolled my shoulders, thinking it was just aching under the strain of so much walking with my head bent against the blistering rays of the sun that baked my skin.  
_

_But it wasn't, because as soon as my shoulders relaxed back into place, a flurry of feathers exploded around me, like I had hit some secret button and they had become unhinged.  
_

_Wings.  
_

_I don't know how long I stood and marveled them in fear and awe. It must have been an awfully long time, because the sun was beginning to dip down low, beautiful pinks coloring the sky by the time I looked anywhere but at them.  
_

_After that I did the only natural thing one would do if they suddenly found wings sprouting from their back . . .  
_

_I tried to fly.  
_

_It didn't work so well. I just flapped uselessly, never leaving the ground for more than a few seconds. I tried everything I could think of: standing in place, running and leaping into the air, jumping off of piles of rock (careful to check for poisonous snakes beforehand). Nothing worked. I was stuck, just as I had been previous to my discovery.  
_

_Chained to the ground by gravity with useless appendages providing me with a tainted glimmer of hope . . .  
_

The insistent beeping woke me up. I was groggy at first, unaware of my surroundings. Groaning I made to turn onto my side, trying to place my hand under my head. When I began to situate it though, something pulled against me, and someone gently stopped my movements. 

"Mhmhmm," I moaned, blinking my eyes open. The horribly tasteless salmon and blue cotton candy colored curtains made my stomach churn, and I immediately twisted my head so I was facing a different direction. 

This time my sight was encompassed in a wall of black, which, with my gaze traveling upward, eventually reached Fang's unsmiling face. _Well, someone was awfully grumpy today_, I noticed in disgruntlement. 

"Where-?" I began, my voice croaking. Water. I needed some water. 

"Hospital," Fang interrupted me sharply, and as if reading my mind, handed me the glass of clear, cool liquid sitting on the bedside table. 

"Why am I?-" I started to speak again, after taking a few gulps of the ice cold water, when he once again cut me off. Hmph. He was being awfully rude this morning . . . or afternoon . . . or evening. I wasn't really sure. 

"Because that idiot you were stupidly fighting knifed you, remember?" 

Harsh, much? What was _wrong _with him? He didn't even seem relieved in the slightest that I was, oh, I don't know- _not dead_. In fact, he looked like he couldn't wait to abandon me in this hell hole he called a hospital as soon as possible. 

"Yeah. That kind of hurt," I admitted, fingering the place where I could feel one of my previously healed wounds reopened. 

Fang snorted in contempt, running a stiff hand through his messy hair as he glared away from me. 

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, my brow furrowing in concern. I reached out to catch his hand, interlacing his fingers with my own. He squeezed them back for a moment before letting them go limp under his heavy stare. 

"You're the one strapped to a hospital bed, and you're asking me if _I'm _okay?" he asked tensely, gritting his teeth. A bitter laugh escaped between his lips, which only shot my worry radar up a thousand notches. 

"You seem upset about something," I hedged, tiptoeing around to find the source of the problem. 

He laughed even more at this, a frown blossoming throughout. It painted a completely wrong picture, as he continued to look at nothing but my hand in his. I applied more pressure, but he didn't respond to my touch. 

"You got stabbed. And it's my fault . . . so you're asking me why I'm upset?" 

"Fang, this is _not _your fault. Why would you think that?" I demanded hotly, pushing myself up to a sitting position. I grabbed his chin with my free hand, forcing him to look up. His beautiful, obsidian eyes locked on my own, but I was unable to find any trace of emotion within their depths. 

Not a good sign. 

"We make each other do stupid things, Max." 

"Yeah, so? It's because you're stupid. I'm stupid. We're all stupid sometimes. That doesn't mean you can blame yourself for every bad thing that happens to me. My life is full of bad things, and it probably always will be. I'm a magnet for trouble. It never ends. I thought you'd have figured that out by now." 

"I know that, but . . ." His voice continued to slip into a monotone, and I was afraid of what he was going to say next. 

"But what?" 

"Maybe . . . if I wasn't around . . . that would be less trouble for you. Maybe bad things wouldn't happen so much." 

I looked at him blankly, as his gaze shifted back to our hands. Suddenly the contact of his skin on mine burned. No matter how much it hurt, as he tugged his fingers gently from my own, I wanted nothing more than to hold on tighter. To him. To everything. 

My breath left me in a shudder, and I swallowed thickly around the lump forming in my throat; creating a barricade there that left me finding it difficult to breathe. I stared at the smooth, white wall, no spare thoughts trailing through my head. Just nothing. 

"Are you . . . are you breaking up with me?" 

Silence. Silence so thick you'd need a butcher's knife to cut it. Or a machete. It consumed every particle of space, ranging on for so long I briefly wondered if I had spoken too late; if he was already gone. 

"Yeah. I am." 

Well then. 

**Author's Note: Who saw that one coming? Huh? Huh? REVIEW AND TELL ME! Yeah? Yeah. I respond well to any form of praise and/or death threats you can possibly imagine. Be creative my little readers! :)**

**(sorry for the shortness, by the way)**

**P.S. Who has me on their favorite author's list? . . . If you don't you should . . . you know . . . **_**add me **_**. . . because I'm kind of like two away from two hundred . . . and it would totally make my day (possibly week/month) if I reached that/got over it. :)**


	28. Mayhem

**Author's Note: As much as I wanted to update right away because of that cliffhanger and all of your WONDERFUL support in putting me on your favorite author's list . . . I was away Friday and Saturday for my uncle's birthday party. SO, sorry about that! Read on :)**

**Chapter Twenty Eight**

_**Mayhem**_

It was late; the moon suspended high in the inky black sky. Stars winked from the closeted darkness surrounding the large oval, permeating a light of their own. I sat comfortably in my bed, swathed in a soft blanket. All the fluorescent bulbs in the apartment were off, natural light filtering in through the window. 

I pressed the phone closer to my ear, leaning back against a pillow as I listened to the familiar hum of the person on the other end of the line. 

"On a scale of one to infinity, how much do you miss me?" Zach inquired, incredibly serious for such an outrageous question. I could visibly see the expression I knew he was wearing, green eyes narrowed in anticipation of my answer; lips pressed tightly together. 

"_Well_," I started plaintively, making like I was pondering his query. I should have known he wouldn't give me enough time regardless. 

"Infinity? Yeah, that's what I figured," he said, the lilting sound of his voice teasing. The connection crackled briefly, fuzzing up. "I always knew you had an unusual, verging on obsessive, attachment to me." 

I snorted, rubbing my eyes to get rid of the scratchy feeling of sleep sprouting there. "It's okay. I already know you miss me more than infinity, so I'll let you think what you want." 

"I do miss you," he insisted, sounding uncharacteristically serious. "Everybody here is so _bland_. Now that I've discovered it, nothing has that Max Ride spark. It's crazy how much I got used to someone with as much sarcastic wit as me. I'm lost without you!" 

Laughing I responded with: "I'm sure you'll find _someone _up to par." 

"Highly unlikely." 

"I _am _quite the individual, aren't I?" I replied haughtily, burrowing deeper into the covers. 

"That you are," he agreed, and I envisioned his smile; with his brown hair flopping into his eyes as he spoke. 

After a slight pause he launched back into speaking again, a tinge of wavering uncertainty in his voice as he spoke. "So listen, I was thinking . . . and since I graduated last week and everything . . . I was considering maybe moving to New York?" 

"No way!" I gasped, sitting up in surprise. "Really?" 

"Yeah. I mean, as long as your boyfriend doesn't mind someone who's obviously very high competition being so close to you," he drawled arrogantly, though his words stung in a way he couldn't have imagined. 

"I'm pretty sure he won't mind_ at all_." I laughed humorlessly, frowning to myself at the thought of Fang. I move cross country for this kid and he breaks my heart -again- over the stupidest thing _ever_? 

"Oh no." 

"It's not that big of a deal," I lied, sighing as I settled my chin into the palm of my hand. It was a _huge _deal. 

"What happened?" Zach demanded, concern blossoming at the tone of my voice. "Do I need to jump on the closest plane to come kick some ass right now or what?" 

This time I laughed for real, shaking my head at his antics. "Don't do anything rash, now. We just . . . we kind of . . . broke up. It's a story I'd really rather not get into at the moment," I said quickly, before he could ask. "He just . . . he's trying to take the blame for something that wasn't his fault at all, and somehow he twisted it around to the point where he thought I'd be better off without him. Safer. It's crap, let me tell you." 

"Sounds like it. It also appears that I shouldn't be saving myself for any New York girls anytime soon. People from there seem to be heart breakers, and I don't know if I can take that," he said mock faintly. "I am a man though. A manly man. And we manly men endure these kinds of things. We break hearts before our hearts can be broken. It's a simple science, really." 

"You're absolutely ridiculous," I chided him, flashing back to when Fang had said something achingly similar not too long ago, just outside this room. My lightened mood turned quickly sour at the thought. 

"In any case, don't fear m'lady. I'll be swinging by soon enough, and you'll no longer have to live like a lonely wench. I'll be the companion you craved so longingly for. Don't try to put any moves on me, though. No offense, but someone _exactly _like me just really isn't my type." 

"And who is your type? Other boys?" I shot back, rolling my eyes although he couldn't see my movements. 

He scoffed so loud I could hear it completely clearly through the speaker. "Of course not! I'm too gorgeous for that. It would be totally wasted on most of the population of men. And not fair to the ladies of this fine planet, either." 

"If you get any cockier, that bloated head of yours is going to explode from all the hot air you're pumping into it," I warned him. Really. I worried about him sometimes, while consequentially wondering why I was friends with him in the first place. 

"That bloated head your talking about is the only reason you survived to pass your GED, may I remind you. I-" I'm sure he must have continued on with his mantra for some time, spewing out reasons why I should consider him a godlike being. My attention was diverted though, by the shadow passing in front of the window. 

My breath caught in my throat, as the unmistakable sight of a crouching figure consumed my vision. There was no doubt that somebody was on the rickety fire escape, looking right at me. All their features were blurred by the dark, and panic rose inside me as I contemplated my next actions. 

"Uh . . . Zach. I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow." 

"-and I . . . huh? Oh. Okay. Talk to you later, Maxiepie!" 

"Yeah," I replied faintly. "Later Zachykins." 

There was a click to signify he had hung up, followed by a long, lone stretch of dial tone that seemed deafening in the enveloping silence. I never took my eyes off the motionless figure outside my window as I let the phone slip from my grip, falling with a muted thump onto the mattress. 

Impatiently the person moved, brashly motioning . . . for me to open the window, I think. Yeah, right. Like I was _completely _stupid. 

I swung my legs to the ground, firmly planting them on the carpet. With quick reflexes I reached over and flicked on the beside lamp, sudden illumination blooming starkly in the previously shadowy room. It granted enough light for me to identify who was at the window. 

"_Dylan_," I hissed, stomping over and roughly jacking the glass upwards. He slid in without invitation, plopping onto the carpet smoothly. Without saying a word to me otherwise he crossed the room, landing on the bed with ease. He interlaced his fingers to create a cushion behind his head, staring up at me with a cheeky smile. I glared back murderously. 

"What do you think you're doing here? Hell, _how _did you even know I was living here?" I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest. There was something seriously screwed up with him, and I was desperate to find its origin. 

"It wasn't that hard to figure out, actually. Pleasantly easy. Which means it'll be just as easy for _them _to track you. They probably already have. They followed you to Arizona, after all," he mused, gazing off into the distance like he was pondering this feat. 

I instinctively knew he was talking about whoever he thought killed Jared. Who he thought was coming after me next. I hadn't seen him since that day in my old bedroom, when he had come to explain everything. 

"How do you know they followed me to Arizona?" I inquired, raising en eyebrow. 

"Max, do you really think it was a coincidence that you almost got killed in an alley there?" 

He drove a hard bargain. 

"Next time you decide to suddenly barge into my life," I said, changing the subject quickly, "do it like a normal person. Use the _front door_." 

"Are you giving me permission to enter your lovely home whenever I so choose it?" he asked mischievously, his turquoise blue eyes twinkling in a way I used to melt over. Not any more, though. I was _so _over his honey blond hair and pretty eyes. It didn't justly disguise the wacko beneath. 

"No. I'm giving you permission to _knock_." 

He seemed unaffected by this, simply shrugging with a lazy smile. He easily turned the conversation into something more casual, commenting on 'what a nice place I had'. Ugh. Gag me with a spoon. Small talk with Dylan was the last thing I wanted in the middle of the night. 

"Is there something in particular you wanted?" I interrupted whatever he was saying, knowing it was rude but really not caring either way. Whatever got him out of my hair faster. He seemed to sense my thoughts, because his next words had my eyes bulging. 

"Oh, you're going to be seeing plenty of me in the future, my dear Maximum." 

Before I could manage to say anything he was already halfway across the room, reaching for the doorknob. I watched him go wordlessly, trailing behind him to make sure he actually left. He turned back around once to give me a small, sincere smile, before he ducked out of the apartment, letting the door fall shut behind him. 

I made sure to lock it, and all the windows, before I went to bed.

**- }{ -**

When Dylan said I was going to be seeing a lot more of him, he wasn't kidding. 

"Seriously?" I deadpanned, narrowing my eyes at him over the cart. "You followed me grocery shopping? Isn't that a little desperate to you?" 

"Of course not. This is merely a coincidence," he said cheerfully, looking chipper. Despite his words he didn't waste any time in sidling up next to me, plucking the lengthy list from my hand. He scanned down it quickly, glancing at the things I had already acquired. 

"You're sure stocking up with a lot for someone who lives alone. Are you sure you aren't hiding someone in there?" he inquired, trying to make what I'm sure was a joke. I found it hard to get along with him though. For the most part, his intentions seemed sincere. I wasn't going to let my guard down around him anytime soon, though. 

For all I knew, he could be the murderer he was raging on and on about. 

"Nope. I just eat a lot," I said simply, turning down the next aisle. I scanned the shelves, plucking something down and into my growing pile of groceries as I walked. Eventually we got into enough of a rhythm that he was pushing the cart as I strolled along in front of him, rifling through the sections to find what I wanted. 

It was _way _too easy and harmonious to last. 

"Uh, Max?" Dylan muttered, breaking the companionable silence we had drifted into. 

"Hmh?" I hummed, glancing up to take in his stricken expression. His gaze wasn't on me though, and I quickly followed it to the other end of the corridor. My eyes met the slicing stare of familiar obsidian irises, glaring coldly; not at me, but at Dylan. 

Uh oh. 

"Don't worry about it." I nudged his shoulder, spurring him into movement. Slowly he followed after me as I moved closer to where Fang stood motionless, his heavy stare turned onto me now as I closed the distance between us without acknowledging his presence. 

I was just brushing past him when is hand shot out, closing around my forearm. I stilled instantly, before stepping back so that I was facing him, Dylan hovering over my shoulder protectively. I know this didn't go unnoticed by Fang, his already midnight colored eyes darkening perceptively. 

"Max, what are you doing with him?" Straight and to the point, his voice hardened steel. Beautiful. 

I opened my mouth to quip back a response, but Dylan beat me to it. 

"I wouldn't have to be with her if you weren't a total idiot, leaving her alone like that. Really? How stupid _are _you? Someone has to be there to protect her at all times. It's not safe otherwise." 

Other than the fact that he made me sound like a totally vulnerable weakling, it was kind of sweet the way he defended me. Not sweet enough, but sweet nonetheless. 

"What are you _talking _about?" Fang demanded, hostile. I felt my position separating them becoming infinitely more tightly packed, which was definitely not a good thing. 

To both of our surprise, Dylan laughed. A lot. 

"You mean," he said between guffaws, "she didn't . . . she didn't _tell _you?" 

"Tell me what?" I could feel Fang's burning stare turned towards me, and I met it head on with a defensive one of my own. His venomous expression barely fazed me as I raised my chin higher, squaring my shoulders to him. 

"That someone's trying to kill her!" Dylan exclaimed, though low enough that nobody else prying and eavesdropping into our conversation would hear. 

"We don't know that for sure," I complained. 

"Yes, we _do_. Someone murdered Jared, and that same person is out to get you. They almost succeeded in Arizona _and _that fight. That's all the proof you need," Dylan insisted. 

If he didn't shut up soon I was going to strangle him. 

"Give us a minute, would you?" Fang directed this to Dylan, who agreed without complaint. I rolled my eyes, listening to him walking away; whistling tunelessly as he went. He strolled to the other end of the aisle, stopping to examine the greeting cards displayed there. I couldn't be sure, of course, but I was betting he was monitoring us out of the corner of his eye. 

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" 

Fang's angry query brought my attention back to him. I took in his clenched fists and locked jaw. The deadly quality in his dark eyes had yet to dissipate, and from the twitching in his hands I could tell he was itching to punch something. Most likely _hard_. 

"I didn't think it was important." I downplayed it with an offhand shrug, inspecting my nails so I wouldn't have to stare into the bottomless pits of acid that were burning a hole into my skull from the intensity that he was glaring at me with. 

"Your life was potentially in _serious _danger . . . and you didn't think it was _important_?" he seethed, gritting his teeth to stop his voice from raising. We were in an extremely public place, after all. 

"Oh come on!" I whined. "This is Dylan we're talking about. Did you really expect me to take every word he said as the truth? I'm an idiot for even considering the minor possibility of him changing. Trust me, I'm still on the fence about that one. So don't get mad at me when I was just saving you the worry that could ultimately be all for nothing in the end!" 

"Except it _wasn't_." 

"I admit that under the circumstances, it seems slightly more than coincidental that two people tried to kill me in such short time. On the other hand, you dumped me. I don't see how this is any of your concern regardless," I hissed, masking the hurt with an anger that rivaled his own at that point. 

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead. His eyes pinched shut briefly before fluttering open again. They smoldered at me from underneath his heavy lashes, his lips set into a grim line. I waited for his next words, a blank expression on my face at all times. 

"About that . . ." he muttered, grimacing slightly. 

"What?" I demanded accusingly, crossing my arms over my chest defensively. 

"I kind of came here today to . . . buy flowers then show up on your doorstep begging for forgiveness . . ." 

"You, begging?" I asked with a snort. "That's something I'd like to see." 

He groaned, before saying: "I'm willing to swallow my pride and shoulder the humiliation if it means you'll take me back." 

". . . You were going to buy me flowers?" I inquired slowly. 

"Uh, yeah," he replied somewhat sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I probably could have come up with something better, but I was kind of running on short notice. Plus, all chicks dig flowers, right?" 

"Not all of them," I disagreed, raising my eyebrows at him. 

"Is that your way of turning me down?" His face went emotionless, a carefully concealed mask taking place of his surprising openness. 

"Not necessarily," I edged, skirting around the true question. He could tell too, by the stern look that was eclipsing in his eyes. 

He stepped closer, bringing a hand to my face. Slowly he ran a tentative finger down the side, traveling to my jaw before his entire palm rested against its expanse. I didn't make any sudden objections, so he continued with his movements, capturing my hand in his; intertwining our fingers before he nestled them between us so that they brushed his chest. 

"Well?" he breathed, touching the tip of his nose on mine. 

I sighed dramatically before answering with: "I suppose I can extend yo-" 

The sharp, insistent ringing off my cell phone cut me off mid-sentence, and I rolled my eyes at the interruption, reaching into my jacket pocket to receive the pesky device. Smiling apologetically at Fang I pressed the talk button, grinding out a greeting. 

"Max, something's come up," the voice on the other end said hurriedly, sounding harried and overwhelmed. 

"Au- I mean . . . uh . . . Val," I fumbled over what to call her. She wasn't Aunt Val anymore, after all. She was my . . . mother. Admittedly, I hadn't spent as much time thinking about the situation as I should have. As you can imagine though, I had been a tad bit busy with other things. "What's going?" 

"Jeb," she stated simply, her voice oozing with an emotion I knew all too well. _Abhorrence_. 

"Jeb? What do you mean, _Jeb_?" I exclaimed, verging on hysterical now myself. Anywhere my deadbeat dad was concerned there was _bound _to be ginormous trouble. I hadn't heard from him since Jared's funeral, but that didn't mean he wasn't against stirring up mayhem. 

"He . . . He's filing for custody of Angel and Gazzy. Max, he wants to take us to court." 

He _what_? 

**Author's Note: Hahahahaha . . . HAHAHAHAHAHA. Review? :)**

**P.S. I might have asked this before . . . I don't really remember, but: sports anybody? In general. What you play, or just favorite pro teams or whatever.**


	29. Lost

**Author's Note: I'm going to respond to a review here instead of through PM, because I want everybody to understand it. Don't worry, nothing bad, but for the reviewer (I'm too lazy to go look, so you know who you are) who warned me against putting too many cliffhangers? That's what gets reviews. I know I've commented on it before at some point in time, but I don't know whether or not you all realize it. **

**Simply put: people are more likely to review when they're left hanging. It spurs them to demand updates and what not. Don't think I do it purposely, now. I usually don't plan things out to that degree. If, as I'm writing, I find a place where it would be good to stop for the suspense, I do it. As it would so happen, that occurs frequently in this particular story.**

**That being said, I'm sorry if the amount of cliffhangers upsets you . . . but that's not likely to change. Just remember, the story is pretty much over at this point. You won't have to put up with it for long.**

**Chapter Twenty Nine**

_**Lost**_

I fidgeted with the soft cotton skirt swirling around my knees, growing increasingly uncomfortable in the garment. _Every_thing about the current situation had me on edge. The loss of control over my sibling's, as they'd always be referred to, future made me physically sick to my stomach. 

At that point anything could feasibly happen, and there wasn't a thing I could do to stop it. 

"Max, calm down," Fang murmured, doing his best to soothe me. While I wasn't sure what my future with him would look like either, it had taken a back seat in light of more pressing matters. Besides, I didn't mind having him there for support. Despite breaking up with me for ridiculous reasons, his presence made me feel better. 

"How can you ask me to calm down?" I hissed, balling my hands into fists as I took my splintering gaze off the empty doorway and turned it on him. "Angel and Gazzy's entire well being is at stake here! They could possibly go to that scum of the earth I'm revolted to call my father . . . or not my father, I guess, considering Rebecca isn't exactly my mom anymore. Regardless, he's worthless. He walked out on us as soon as he got the opportunity. He doesn't deserve a second chance." 

His obsidian eyes pierced my own, simmering with a low intensity. He gripped my shoulders in his callused hands, keeping my jittery, restless limbs in place. I pressed my lips tightly together, squeezing my lids shut. He was right. I needed to relax. At some point I was going to have to go in and give my testimony or whatever, and it wouldn't do me any good to look half crazed and hysterical. 

"I'm scared, Fang," I admitted, no shame in doing so. "I'm scared for them." 

He pulled me closer, his arms slipping from my shoulders and around my neck. I clung to his waist, burying my head in his collar. 

"I know . . . Me too," he whispered lowly at my ear. 

Because the truth was, even though he had abandoned us before, Jeb could certainly provide a much more stable environment for Angel and Gazzy than Rebecca and my . . . mom, could. He had _way _more money and a nonexistent drug record. The ways he could use that against us were endless. Plus, he had successfully been married to his current wife for _years_, and they had a healthy son of their own. I'm sure, despite the mishap with our family in the past, he was the picture perfect model for a father now . . . while my mo- _Rebecca _was a recovering drug addict who didn't have much of a part in raising her kids even though they were technically 'in her care'. 

Oh, we were a shoe in. 

The creaking sound of the door opening had me leaping from Fang's arms and whirling in the direction the noise had come from. Unfortunately, it was the wrong door. The frame leading to the courtroom was still solid wood, while the one towards the outside of the building was gaping. 

"Dylan," I reprimanded him through gritted teeth, sullen now that he had gotten my hopes up. It was torture not being able to sit in on the proceedings. Everybody else could, after all. I absolutely hated waiting, knowing that somewhere in there Angel and Gazzy were sitting, under the scrutiny of the judge; myself unable to protect them from whatever fate lied in store for them. "What are you doing here?" 

"_Chill _Maxie," he said, rolling his eyes. I did my best to ignore his use of the pet name 'Maxie'. If I dwelled on it too long I was likely to punch him square in the face; something that was likely frowned upon here. 

"Now _really _isn't the time for your twisted games," I insisted, struggling to keep my frustration in check. 

"I know, okay? I just wanted to let you know that I'd be scouting the perimeter for any trouble, so when you see me lurking around through a window you wouldn't flip out," he explained seriously, then with brows furrowed: "_Twisted games_?" 

"Just get out of here!" I ordered, shoving him towards the exit. He raised his hands in surrender, allowing me to manhandle him onto the steps. I slammed the door on his brilliantly smiling face, only hoping I could get lucky enough for it to disgruntle him. 

Huffing I spun on my heel, blowing a strand of hair out of my face while I did so. I began pacing after that, stretching from one end of the small waiting room to the next. No one besides Fang and I were present, so I felt safe in doing this to blow off some steam. He tried to cut in on my path a few times, but I dodged him until he eventually gave up, settling in a chair to watch me slowly drive myself insane. I'm afraid it gave him more amusement than I would have preferred. 

I stopped dead in my tracks when a door I hadn't previously noticed swung open, revealing two people. One was an older woman, her white-blond hair fashioned in a twist around the nape of her neck. She had on a chalky gray business suit; the severity of her pencil skirt cutting just above her knees. Her expression was vaguely icy, but mostly uninterested. 

The other was a young boy, probably seven or eight in age. His eyes were the same blue as the woman's, and he had dirty blond hair that was mussed around his head. Upon seeing me he bowed his head quickly, like he was embarrassed, or more likely: shy. 

"You're Max?" the lady asked sharply, raising a perfectly waxed eyebrow at me. 

"Yeah," I said slowly, exchanging a look with Fang. "And you are?" 

"Victoria Batchelder. Jeb's wife," she elaborated, staring me down like she was judging my character by just a glance. 

Just to clear some minor things up as well, I changed mine and Angel and Gazzy's last names to Rebecca, and apparently my mother's, maiden name after he left. I wanted to rid myself of every part of him possible. It just didn't seem right to continue living as normal with the devil linked so closely to us all. 

My gaze zeroed in on the child at her side. That meant that he was . . . 

"Jeb was insistent that I bring Ari to meet you. All he does is talk about his amazing big sister anyway, not that he knows a thing about you besides the outlandish tales his father tells him. Makes you sound like some sort of martyr saint or something, sacrificing yourself for the common good and all. He brags all the time about what a success you are, and all on your own," she sniffed, sounding unimpressed by what was directly in front of her. Looks like I didn't exactly live up to the image Jeb painted of me. 

Besides the very extreme initial shock that Jeb speaks about me at all. I figured I'd be some sort of taboo in his new and improved life. 

"I'll just leave him here and you two can chat," she announced before I could get in a word edgewise, nudging Ari forward. He smiled bashfully up at me, scuffing the tip of his shoe into the floor; back and forth and back and forth. 

She left me no room to object, fleeing from sight as soon as she could possibly disengage herself from the conversation. I had barely opened my mouth before the door had shut with a resounding bang at her back. It looked like I'd be getting personal with the little squirt without her supervision. 

I glanced back at Fang, looking panicked. He took in my expression, shrugging in response. He didn't know what I was supposed to do. Was there a right way to talk to the little half brother you didn't even know you had until just recently, before then finding out that he wasn't actually your brother because your mom isn't actually your mom, so your father couldn't possibly be your actual father? 

Did no one think of this besides me? 

"Uhm . . . hi," I greeted him lamely, giving him a small smile. This seemed to encourage him somewhat, because he lifted his head a little and stepped closer to me. I walked over to the line of chairs against the wall, motioning for him to join me. He complied without hesitation, scampering to do my bidding with enthusiasm. 

I could get used to that. 

"So . . ." I mused, wracking my brain for something to talk about. "You're my little brother, huh?" _Or not_. 

He nodded timidly. 

"And that was your mom that brought you in here?" I asked, going for some easy things so that he'd warm up to me a little and, I don't know-_ actually speak_. 

"Yeah," he answered, his voice low and quiet. "She has breast cancer though, so she's probably going to die soon." 

My eyes practically bulged out of their sockets, and I whipped my head around to stare at Fang. He looked minutely affect, but what could you expect from _Fang_? Who cares if some eight year old just announced his mommy was probably going to die sometime in the near future? That wasn't a big deal for Mr. Rock at all. 

"Who told you that?" I demanded, returning my attention to Ari. 

"She did," he said, his pretty blue eyes wide and innocent, gazing up at me. He didn't seem necessarily upset over the fact, so I decided it really wasn't my place to judge. I smoothly slid that little tidbit out of the way, delving into something a little less . . . morbid. 

"Alright then. Tell me, how does your dad . . . treat you?" I inquired, biting my lip. This was one of the most important things for me; the thing I absolutely _had _to know. There was really no tiptoeing around it. I needed to know that if he had to give us up, he was at least a good father to this little boy. 

"He's nice," Ari supplied, smiling. "He buys me a lot of toys and cool stuff. He doesn't play with me a lot, though. He works all the time, so I stay at home with Mommy when I'm not at school. Sometimes he takes me to the lab with him. That's fun, too." 

"He takes you to work with him?" This was mildly alarming, considering if I remembered correctly, Jeb was a scientist studying genetics. The project he was working on just before he left, and forgive my eight year old mind for not committing the exact details to memory, was that of splicing human DNA with animals. 

"Uhuh! The people there give me candy when he's not looking. They're really nice. He doesn't let me go into most of the places there, though. He says some of the stuff is too scary for me. I mostly play in his office or with the secretaries while he works," he explained, and I bit back a sigh of relief. So he wasn't experimenting on his own son, apparently. 

Good. 

"Well that's great, then." 

"He talks about you all the time, too," Ari informed me, sounding pleased at the fact. I had to wonder yet again why Jeb was mentioning me so seemingly much. If he loved me as much as they were making it appear, he wouldn't have walked out on me at such a young age. It didn't make any sense. 

"Yeah?" I said in interest. "What kind of stuff did he say?" 

"Well . . . he just tells me how brave you are, and that you take care of the other two kids in that big room. That you shouldn't have to, but you do anyway, because you love them. I think he wishes you would love him like that, too." 

"Yeah, well I don't think that's going to be happening anytime soon. But I like _you _a lot, so it doesn't really matter about Jeb anyway," I replied, poking his stomach. He responded with a giggle, squirming under my finger. 

Someone cleared their throat, and I glanced up quickly. Having not heard the door, I was surprised to find a man beckoning for me . . . to enter the courtroom. That meant it was time to testify. My next words could be the weight to throw the deciding balance in our favor. I wanted this to end quickly and painlessly, no bitter custody battle necessary. 

I came to a stand, suddenly heart achingly serious. Fang stood beside me, squeezing my hand quickly in assurance. I glanced back once to see him framed in the doorway, Ari at his side. Fang smiled crookedly at me in encouragement, and I was hard pressed to keep that image in my mind as I ventured forward. 

The room was deathly silent as I made my way down the carpeted aisle, to the very front. On one side Rebecca, Val (because really, I wasn't ready to call her my mother yet), and their lawyer sat. On the other Jeb and his attorney watched my proceedings with solemn eyes. I caught a glimpse of Angel and Gazzy in the corner, waiting tentatively. I couldn't do much else but shoot them a shaky smile before I was ushered to the stand. 

I wasn't sure what to expect after that, but the movies and TV shows didn't lie. I had to state my name and all that good stuff, then swear that I would tell the truth. Like I had anything to lie about. I mean, really. 

Mr. Lebowitz, the lawyer Valencia hired, approached from behind their bench. He stuck his hands in his pockets, taking on a relaxed position as he stared at me with an easy, carefree expression. Either he was trying to put on a show, or he was actually that sure of his ability to win this case. 

"Can you identify Jeb Batchelder for me, please?" he asked. 

I suppressed a sigh, pointing directly at Jeb. 

"Good. Now tell me, Jeb left you and your family when you were a mere eight years old. Gazzy being two and Angel a fragile newborn, correct?" 

"Yes," I answered coldly, my eyes narrowing at Jeb's expressionless face. 

"So it would be safe to assume that he didn't want anything to do with the rest of yours, and their, upbringing?" 

"_Objection_," Jeb's lawyer insisted. "Argumentive." 

"Sustained," the judge agreed, much to my displeasure. 

"You were very much a vital part of these two children's raising, were you not?" Lebowitz seemed unfazed by the refusal, moving on easily. 

"Yeah. They were my entire life growing up," I admitted, allowing myself a sly glance in their direction. Both were looking up at me with wide, blue eyes. Their angelic blond curls tumbled beautifully around their heads, making them look impossibly more innocent. 

"You're a legal adult now, correct?" 

"Yes." 

"You'd be able to provide for them if need be, then?" 

"Of course. I'd do it today if it meant they could stay in the right hands." 

"Your view of the right hands being whom?" 

"Objection." Jeb's lawyer stood again, lips set in a grim, unforgiving line. 

"Overruled. Continue." 

"Not Jeb. _Definitely _not Jeb," I insisted vehemently, wholly centered on that fact. If the raw emotion in my voice wasn't enough for that stupid handful of jury members who held the fragile future of two of the most important people in my life, I didn't know what was. 

"I think it's been proven that you're in a very good place to know what's best for them then, right?" 

I could tell Jeb's lawyer wanted to say something, but he held it in. 

"We didn't have a lot in the past, but I made sure I could always afford what was best for them. It might not have been an ideal situation, but it's _much _better now," I highlighted, hoping to shed light on that feat. They had a good home where they were. They didn't need anything else. 

"Is it true that Jeb could have come back at any time?" 

"_Yes_. But he never did. Not once. I didn't see a hair on the top of his head until recently when he intruded on a very good friend of mines funeral, no less. At any point in time he could have helped us out in some way. Instead he just ignored our existence. How can it be okay for him to suddenly want to take them away from us? It's not fair." 

I had enough life experience to know that things were hardly ever fair, but this just seemed cruel and unusual. 

"No further questions, Your Honor." Lebowitz withdrew to their bench, looking satisfied. 

"Cross-examination?" 

"Yes, please," Jeb's lawyer answered pleasantly, shutting something in his briefcase before he stood, walking slowly to stand in front of me. When he did so he locked my gaze with his own, and I was nothing if not competitive, so I stared back; unflinching. 

"Is it true that, under light of recent circumstances, you came to find out that Rebecca Ride was, indeed, not your biological mother? That her older sister was?" 

"Yes," I replied truthfully. 

"So it's also fact that Angela and Zephyr are not your real siblings?" 

"With all due respect sir, they may not be directly linked to me by blood, but they will _always _be my brother and sister. No amount of DNA testing can say otherwise," I said strongly, grinding out the words through gritted teeth. 

He nodded, jumping immediately to his next question. 

"Rebecca struggled with drug addiction very soon after Jeb left, correct? That's why you were forced to raise the children while you were nothing but a child yourself?" 

"Yes, but-" 

"Just answer yes or no, please." 

_I'll answer yes or no to my fist in your face, that's what I'll do buddy.  
_

"Yes," I said tightly, my gaze never leaving his carefully calculating one. 

"You managed to go some time without any unwanted attention from social services, right?" 

"Yes." 

"That didn't last long, though? Eventually they were contacted and the two were admitted into their custody?" 

"That's right. They omitted me because I was almost eighteen anyway. I'd be out of the system before they even got me fully in." 

"I'm aware that Rebecca fully completed her rehab treatment, but is it possible for her to relapse and start using again?" 

"Objection. Irrelevant. Other guardians would be immediately available," Lebowitz interjected, looking determined. 

"Your Honor, the basic loss of their mother is no firm foundation for a growing child. It _is _relevant to the case." 

"Sustained. You may continue with the line of questioning." 

He glanced back at me expectantly, that being the only time his eyes left mine during the examination. 

"Yes, I suppose she could. But-" 

"Yes or no is all that's needed, Ms. Ride." 

I pressed my lips tightly together, fighting the urge to sock him in the eye. "Yes," I begrudgingly admitted. 

"I believe we're done here. No further questions." 

I barely contained a growl at his retreating, triumphant back. He thought he had won this round? Oh, he had another thing coming for him. Just because Rebecca was still at an unstable time concerning her condition, it didn't mean she was going to give up the life she had just gained back. If it meant keeping Angel and Gazzy away from Jeb's clutches, I would make sure of it. 

"Wait!" I exclaimed, pulling the judge and jury's attention to me. "Can I please say just one more thing?" 

The judge eyed me, an unidentifiable emotion in his eyes. I gave him a pleading look, and he said gruffly, "Permission granted." 

"_Look_," I said insistently, turning to face the jury. "Neither situation may seem ideal at one point or another, but you have to take into consideration what _they _want. This shouldn't be up to anybody but them. Both families are stable. On one hand you have a father that's never wanted anything to do with them, but also has the finances to finish raising them. I've heard from a very good source though, his son in fact, that he works a lot and is barely home. On the other hand you have a mother that loves them, no matter past mistakes. Plus a big sister who has, and always will, risk her life for them at any given moment. Not to mention an aunt that's sacrificed so much for them already, and will continue to do so until her dying day, that I'm sure of. How can you force them away from that without their consent? 

"Let _them _decide," I finished in a raspy whisper, barely loud enough for the jury to hear. Their faces showed the effect my words had on them, and they unanimously decided right then and there what should be done. The judge couldn't feasibly refuse. 

Angel and Gazzy would decide. 

"I want to stay with Max! And Mommy and Aunt Valencia and Ella! I never ever want to have to leave them," Angel cried automatically, leaping to her feet as soon as the judgement was ruled. She raced to where I was exiting the witness podium, throwing herself into my waiting arms. 

"Me too!" Gazzy agreed, following soon after his sister. Even though he was twelve now, he had no shame in burying his face in my neck. Bittersweet that he was tall enough now to even reach it, nevertheless. The kid was growing _fast_, all gangly legs and arms. 

HA, in your face Jeb! HA HA HA! 

I've only ever lost a fight once. Today definitely wasn't going to be a chance for a second. 

**Author's Note: No cliffhanger! You're welcome. I fully expect you to review still, though! ;)**

**Ahem. Anyway. I'm no lawyer, so feel free to complain about how crappy that trial/hearing thing was. I don't know anything about that stuff. I don't even know if custody is decided by a jury. I've never had any personal experience with the matter, so I was kind of winging it. Review anyway?**

**P.S. Who else loves crime/court shows as much as me? :)**


	30. Fury

**Author's Note: Last chapter, last chapter, la- WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT. It's NOT THE LAST CHAPTER! There's still ONE MORE! :) WOOOOO!**

**You're very graciously welcome ;)**

**Chapter Thirty**

_**Fury**_

The room turned into a flurry of commotion once the verdict was reached. People were exiting here and there, but I stayed firmly planted where I was. I knew Angel and Gazzy were going to have to hop on the next available flight back to Arizona, and I probably wouldn't be seeing them for quite some time. This was most likely the only opportunity I had to say goodbye until they, or I, visited.

"How has everything been?" I inquired, curious. I hadn't gotten a lot of chances to talk with them since I moved back, so I was particularly interested in how they themselves had settled since my absence.

"Good. Glad that school's out," Gazzy replied, grinning impishly. I extended my hand to ruffle his hair, and he ducked out of reach. Oh, whoops. He wasn't eight anymore. It wasn't _cool _to do that.

"We all miss you," Angel piped in, her light blue eyes luminous. "Ella does, too. She was really mad that Aunt Val wouldn't let her come with us, but she said it wasn't a vacation and she wouldn't have any time to talk to you that much anyway."

"She was right," I agreed. "You guys are probably leaving soon."

As if on cue, Valencia approached, her conversation ending with Mr. Lebowitz. She placed a hand on Angel and Gazzy's shoulder, smiling at me tenderly. Motherly. I squirmed under the unfamiliar look. I was used to it coming, albeit mostly unwanted, from Rebecca. Not Val. This was still going to take some getting used to, that was for sure.

"Hey . . . Mom," I said faintly, unsure. Her brilliant smile told me I had done the right thing.

"I wish we could talk a little more, but we really need to go. I have to be at work tomorrow, so we need to catch our flight. I'm sorry," she apologized, completely sincere.

I nodded, accepting her hug. She then led Angel away, who turned and waved back at me. I returned the gesture, watching them go. Gazzy stayed at my side though, waiting until they had disappeared from the now mostly empty room before speaking.

"I want to stay with you," he stated brashly, no question in his tone.

"You what?" I demanded, brows furrowed. He seemed happy in Arizona. Had that changed since the time I left?

"_I want to stay with you_," he repeated, this time more insistently. "The only thing keeping Angel there is Mom, but I don't care about her. She might not be so bad anymore, but I can't forget what she's done. Every time I look at her I see one of her _fits_. I'm going crazy every time she enters a room. I want to live with you, again."

"Gazzy . . . I'd love that. I really would. But you need to get to know Rebecca better. You need to . . . give her a chance." I swallowed any desires I had to take back my words. As much as I didn't believe in second chances, I was learning that sometimes you had to extend them no matter how cloudy the outcome.

"I don't want to get to know her better! You didn't. You got to leave."

"One: I'm eighteen. I could leave whenever I wanted, and so can you when you're my age. Two: I left mostly because I found out she wasn't actually my mother. You're running out of excuses now," I insisted petulantly. I understood where he was coming from, but I wasn't going to take him away from his sister and mother. They would both be devastated.

He frowned, tucking his hands in his front pockets. "Do you not want me to live with you? Is that it? Are you happier without us?" he accused viciously, and I almost reeled backwards in shock.

"How could you think that?" I shouted, incredulous. "I _hate _being this far away from you two. But that's just how it's going to be for right now. _I'm sorry_."

Rebecca came through the doorway at that moment, searching. When her sights landed on Gazzy she motioned for him to hurry up, and his face set in a hard scowl. He glared at me before walking away, and there wasn't anything I could do but watch him go. This was one thing I didn't have control over. He didn't realize that I had a small apartment that was full enough, and I didn't even have a job yet. Maybe when I was more stable they could stay with me, but for now I was kicking it on my own.

The next person to approach was a surprise, mingled with hostility.

"What do you want, Jeb?" I asked scathingly, narrowing my eyes at him coldly. He had just tried to rip my family away after all this time, and now he was coming to have a pleasant conversation post trial? As if.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," he answered honestly, his expression calm and serene; like he wasn't even affected by the outcome of today. It wasn't a shock to me that this was just a minor roadblock in his path.

"I'm just peachy, thanks," I replied sarcastically, wheedling my way under his skin. He didn't show any signs that he was affected by this, other than the tiniest tightening of his jaw. "Now get out of here. Get out of my _life_. You're not my father, after all."

"What makes you think that?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow all mysterious like.

I glared openly, defiant. "My mother wouldn't do that. She wouldn't sink so low."

"Maybe not intentionally, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her. While I know what I did was wrong in most people's eyes, both girls were my daughters. Making a small change didn't really hurt anybody."

I don't know why it came as such a shock; his words hitting me hard, like a battering ram. The hospital hadn't made a mistake at all. It had been him all along. _He _had switched the babies, when he realized the daughter his wife had given birth to was likely to die. If I really was his biological daughter as well, then to him it wouldn't have been a big deal to give Rebecca the one that was more likely to live, so that he could monitor my upbringing more closely than he could have if I had stayed with my _real _mother.

"You're a monster," I whispered shakily, unable to contain the quake of emotions roiling through me.

"I made you successful."

"I made _myself _successful. You can take _no _credit for that."

"I had your best intentions at heart," he insisted calmly. "I always did."

I gritted my teeth, clenching my hands into fists and pressing them closely to my sides. If I had to stare at his horrific mask for any longer I really couldn't be held liable for what I would do. Without saying another word I turned on my heel, stalking away from him and all the grief he had caused me. That part of my life was over, and I would make sure it stayed that way at all costs.

**- }{ -**

"He really is a miserable excuse for a human being," Fang agreed later that night, when I had mostly rid myself of Jeb's acidic toxins.

I had just finished explaining to him what I had figured out about my birth, and he seemed just as disgusted as I had been. How could any person with some semblance of a conscious do that? I didn't remember him being that cold hearted, especially early in my life. It seemed like now, even those few good memories were tarnished beyond repair.

"Can we talk about something else?" I pleaded, dropping my head into my hands tiredly. Fang pulled me closer to him from the other side of the couch, situating me against his chest. I made no objections, allowing him to drape his arms around my shoulders. He pressed his lips to the top of my head, running a lazy hand down my back.

"Sure," he responded with a shrug I couldn't see, but felt in the sloping of his shoulders.

The gentle hum of the air conditioner wafted through the silence that ensued, offset by the exact ticking of the clock marking the time that escaped us. I reveled in the empty quiet, letting it wash over me. It created a sense of peace that was long foreign to me. Eventually, all good things had to come to an end, though.

"I was thinking . . . about the whole fight incident," I started, and I felt him go as still as marble underneath me. It was obviously a bit of a touchy subject between us. "The guy said I was back for a rematch . . . and that made me realize that we never did have the one we agreed on."

After a beat of silence he said, "Is this really necessary?"

"Completely."

"Where would we even go? And are you planning this to be an audience sort of thing, or private?" Questions, questions, questions. He should know to trust me on this.

"Definitely private. I don't need a drunken crowd of horny men. I'm done with that, thanks. We could meet at Leroy's gym tomorrow," I suggested, twisting my head around to take in his expression. It was, as expected, mostly blank. He was raising a dark eyebrow at me though, his lips parted slightly.

"Tomorrow?"

"Best to get it over with as soon as possible, right?" I smiled cheekily.

He groaned, grimacing. "Whatever you want, Max. _Whatever _you want."

I went to sleep triumphant at the outcome of what started out as an incredibly stressful day.

_I felt the soft blades of grass sifting between my fingertips, poking into the back of my legs as I sat amidst the lawn of green. My head tilted back, I took in the ring of trees prodding the crystalline blue sky. High above me the sound of tinkling laughter drifted all through the atmosphere, raining from the clouds like sweet teardrops. Birds wheeled in careening circles and loops in the sky, dark masses against the light._

_Large birds. _Very _large birds. Abnormally so._

_I could sense my gaze narrowing, squinting against the sunlight to get a better look. Now the winged creatures seemed to be chasing each other, rocketing through the atmosphere like it was water. My ears picked up the giggling more easily now, as it increased in noise and frequency. _

_Suddenly, one of the biggest dropped from the rest, seeming to descend in a complicated, beautiful spiral. I watched in awe as it got closer and closer, not believing my eyes at the sight I held before me. From this vantage point it appeared less and less like a regular bird, and more like a human . . . with wings._

_"Fang?" I asked in a hushed whisper, dazzled by the . . . thing . . . standing before me, that wore the familiar face._

_It was the same Fang I was accustomed to. Windswept, shaggy black hair. Tan skin. Dark eyes. Sinewy muscles. Dressed in onyx colored clothing. Normal everything. Except for the addition I could see sprouting from between his shoulder blades; a feathery mass that took the form of wings resting easily in the space there. They were the same obsidian of his eyes, exotic and surreal._

_"Come on, Max," he urged, offering his hand. I accepted it hesitantly, and he lugged me to my feet. I stood, my legs tingling from lack of use. Standing, the clearing we were in seemed smaller._

_"Come where?" I inquired, confused._

_He smirked, using his index finger to point upwards._

_"But . . . I can't," I insisted haltingly, shaking my head. As I spoke the other birds, though I was starting to question that the closer they came, began drifting nearer just as Fang had previously._

_"Of course you can," he replied, placing a hand behind me. He touched something there that made my muscles twitch reflexively, and my jaw dropped when I realized there were wings quite similar to his protruding from my back as well. They appeared a little smaller though, and different colored._

_"How did-?" I started to say in a dazed tone, but he cut me off._

_"Now come on. The others want to play a game," he informed me, smiling crookedly. The gesture set butterflies loose in my stomach, forcing my lips to turn upwards in response._

_"I . . . but I can't _fly_." _

_Just then the 'others' reached their destination, thumping to a halt on the ground, some more gracefully than others. I took in the extremely familiar faces, with extremely unusual sets of wings in varying shades and sizes for each. There was no mistaking Angel and Gazzy, or Nudge and Iggy. They were all here. My family._

_My odd _flock_._

_"Yeah you can," Fang said, breaking into my observations._

_"No," I insisted reluctantly, "I can't."_

_"Max, all you have to do is trust your instincts. You know exactly what to do. Don't be scared," he murmured softly, his tone soothing as I stood, wide eyed._

_I stepped back, watching with rapt attention as one by one they took off into the air once more. Fang stayed, hovering nearby in case I needed assistance. Which I would, because I didn't have any idea what I was doing. He didn't offer up any helpful hints though, simply staring at me blankly; waiting._

_I shifted on my feet self consciously, glaring down at the grass. His previous words burned in the back of my mind, insistent that I take those first few steps. Besides, I had a tough girl reputation to uphold. Nobody needed to know how scared I was. I shouldn't have been. This was . . . nothing. _

_Yeah, right. This was _everything_._

_Taking one last deep breath I squared my shoulders, mentally preparing myself for what could be complete and utter failure. I had to do as Fang said though, and trust my instincts. There was a growing rumble of feeling in the pit of my stomach. _Need_. I needed to touch those clouds, feel the wind kiss the feathers of my wings. It had escalated way past the realm of pitiful wanting._

_Mimicking their moves I took a few quick steps, running into a leap that caused the ground to disappear beneath my feet. Before I could panic the wind caught my feathers, keeping me suspended. Concentrating I allowed my mind to take over, letting it make the commands to my limbs and extra appendages._

_I was incredibly open to vulnerability at that point, unsure of what may lie ahead. Maybe absolute and total loss of control. Maybe fascination and elation at what I had accomplished. What was important was trusting myself, and not letting the fear of getting hurt stop me from taking chances that may be well worth it in the end._

_It was then, as I raised higher and higher into the air, that I realized I was dreaming. All the little puzzle pieces of my cryptic wing dreams from before seemed to fall into place at that moment. This is what it had been all about. My subconscious had been trying to give me a subliminal message all along._

_Now, in hindsight of that, I had learned how to fly._

I rolled over onto my back, moaning tiredly. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I glanced at the clock, then again more sharply as I took in the blocky numbers flashing there. It was already twelve in the afternoon. Sitting up quickly I threw my covers off, stumbling into the living room. The apartment was empty though, Fang nowhere in sight. Then I remembered he had gone back to Iggy's last night, and I was able to calm myself somewhat.

Then I recalled that we were meeting at Leroy's gym at one, and I didn't exactly have a lot of time to get there.

Cursing myself for sleeping in so late I practically tripped over my own feet as I hurried to the bathroom. After brushing my teeth and running a quick comb through my hair, I tossed it up into a ponytail. I was halfway out the door before I realized I still had my pajamas on. Gee, I was a mess this morning . . . or afternoon, I guess.

I backtracked, changing into shorts and a t-shirt haphazardly. I paused for a breath, making sure I was all accounted for. When I was absolutely positive that I wasn't forgetting anything, I made my way out the door once more.

The walk was peaceful, though much more tiring than I had remembered. Possibly because since Fang, I hadn't really had to go anywhere on foot. He always drove. Which just brought up the recurring idea that I needed a car of my own. After getting used to the luxury, I didn't think I was quite ready to go back to relying only on myself to get me where I needed to go. Plus it was incredibly time consuming at that.

Even so, I was about fifteen minutes early.

I approached the old, familiar building cautiously. The windows were so musty and caked in grime you couldn't see through them, and one was even cracked like a spider web. My brow continued to furrow as I examined the outside, taking note of the twisted hinge on the door and the sad state of the awning above it. This wasn't how I had left it, that was for sure. Then it had been in a better state than ever, but it seemed that at some point it had taken a turn for the worse. _Way _worse.

The door stuck when I tugged on it, and I had to press my shoulder against it and use all my strength to pry it open. The inside was in an even sorrier shape than I would have anticipated. The tiles were loose from the concrete beneath, some missing entirely. The equipment looked like it hadn't been used in years, so much rust and dust had accumulated on their surfaces. The stench permeating from every square inch of space was even worse, making my eyes water and my nose wrinkle in disgust. It smelled like death and decay.

Slowly I wound my way through the room, my frown deepening the more I saw. The lights were flickering above me, dim, but casting enough illumination to see by. That must mean _somebody _was here, right? That's why the boxing ring was such a beacon, standing out from the rest of the dismal space like a shining jewel amongst dirt encrusted pebbles. Bright spotlights shone on the arena, basking it in a fluorescent light that almost made my eyes hurt.

I ducked under the ropes, squinting. Memories from my time spent here with Jared flooded my brain, making my heart beat painfully in my chest. So much had been going on, that I hadn't had a lot of time to think about him. Missing him was one thing that had never gone away, though. And never would, that I was sure of.

In the distance my ears pricked at the sound of a steady thumping, like footsteps. I turned my body towards the sound, trying to see into the shadows. The overwhelming light surrounding me blocked out the rest, making it nearly impossible to see anything beyond the fringe of the worn and yellowed ring. Paranoia tickled at my senses, and I realized how dumb it was to come here. This was one of the worst parts of town, and there was possibly a killer after me.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Fang?" I asked, hopefully.

The steps ceased, but there was no response.

"This isn't funny," I insisted, my voice remaining mostly steady as I projected it into the large, open room. "Is that you, Fang?"

_Step . . . Step . . . Step . . . Stop . . . Voice._

"Last time I checked, no," the person said gruffly, their voice sounding rough and weathered. Familiar though. Almost like . . .

"_Leroy_?" I demanded with a grin, peering more insistently into the darkness now. A ripple of movement caught my eye, and in the next second the tall, burly man was heaving himself into the ring beside me. His hair was even longer now, pulled back behind his head. He was as unshaven as I remembered, his beady eyes just as unsettling.

"This was easier than I thought it was going to be," he muttered, seemingly to himself. I ignored it, moving on to something more interesting.

"You really let this place go, didn't you?" I asked, smirking as I gestured around me. His expression didn't change much. I couldn't be sure, of course, but his eyes seemed to darken imperceptibly; something that wasn't generally good.

He watched me petulantly for a moment, like he was calculating something. Before I could remark on it, he was already speaking.

"Didn't you ever wonder why I let one of the highest known street fighters work for me?"

Bizarre question, but alright.

"Because I was one of the highest known street fighters?" I answered sarcastically, then: "I just figured you saw how much I needed the job. You aren't as tough as you look, really. Inside you have a good heart."

He continued on as if I hadn't spoken, making me think that it might have been more of a rhetorical question. "I saw myself in you. Young. Strong. Ready to take on whoever came across their path to glory. I helped you when no one else would. You wouldn't have survived without my money . . . and how do you repay me? By abandoning the gym and everything about your past life, it seems. Including me. _Look at what you've done_."

His growl forced me to notice how close he was getting, drifting towards me with his hulking form. This entire situation was becoming much more dangerous than I could have anticipated. He blamed me for his downfall?

"Of course that Jared was always getting in the way, digging up the past. Thankfully he didn't get to you before he was taken care of, but it didn't much matter in the end. You left just like everybody else."

"You killed Jared?" I demanded, suddenly hostile. My vision filled with red, my lips settling into a terrifying snarl that barely seemed to faze him. In fact, he looked more amused than anything.

"_I _didn't. Not personally at least. I initiated the orders, of course. Made the plans. It was really a brilliant masterpiece. I am sorry about that. I know how much you loved him . . . but sometimes meddlesome people need to be removed from the picture," he explained with a sly grin that made my fingers curl in agitation. "When the fire didn't kill him I had to get . . . creative. The other two were an added bonus. Such a pity for you, though."

"You son of a-" I growled.

"You, on the other hand, were _much _harder. Anytime my assassins, shall you say, got close you always managed to get away. Then I couldn't even pull a wonderful hospital stunt like with your friend, because there was always somebody at your side. Especially that dark boy. Is that who you called for before? Fang?"

I didn't have time to react before his large, dirty hand encased my throat. I gasped, choking. He lifted me off the ground with surprising strength, my feet dangling in the air. As breathing became harder and harder I knew I had to do something, and _fast_. With my vision tunneling I snapped out a hard kick to his shin, catching him by surprise. He immediately dropped me, and I landed in a crumpled, heaving heap on the ground.

With a sound somewhere between a scream of fury and a growl he launched at me, and I rolled effectively out of his reach. Rubbing my throat for a moment I rocked back on my haunches, glaring as he snarled at me from a few feet away. When he took a step I jumped, leaping through the air. I landed behind him, and before he could spin around I clobbered him in the back of the head, elbowing his spine. He bent over, stunned at what I'm sure was immense pain rocketing up his back.

"Had enough?"

My question was answered as he roared back to a standing position, looking like the Incredible Hulk suddenly transforming. My eyes widened as I was buffeted by his angry fists. I did my best to dodge out of the way. I was much quicker than him, but he was also stronger. One punch landed hard into the soft skin of my stomach, and I couldn't stop my knees from crumpling. I dropped to the floor, and he wasted no time.

I screamed once. Damn whoever created knives. They were going to be the death of me. Quite literally.

**Author's Note: ONCE AGAIN, in case you happened to skip the AN above and are incredibly confused by this, THERE'S STILL ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT. Yaaay! **

**P.S. Who's celebrating that there's still more to come? :)**


	31. Epilogue: Endless

**Author's Note: Sorry for the wait. My internet was on the fritz again. ON THE BRIGHTSIDE: my laptop is fixed! YAYAYAYAYAY .. I'm the only one happy about that? .. Alright.**

**Ahem. Anyway. This is the LAST CHAPTER!**

**Enjoy :)**

_**Epilogue**_

**Endless**

"I swear if I never wake up in a hospital bed again, my life will be complete," I moaned.

As soon as my eyes had fluttered open, and the antiseptic smell had layered its stench in my nose thickly, I knew exactly where I was. Never mind the horrible decorating and insistent beeping from my heart monitor, or the stationary dripping IV's at my side. The smell would give it away to a blind man . . . like Iggy. The above statement was the first thing flying out of my mouth as soon as I came to this conclusion.

"You do have a knack for it, don't you?" a bemused voice asked. I glanced to my right to find Fang sitting in an uncomfortable looking plastic chair beside me, his hair rumpled and his eyes glazed over slightly with lack of sleep. "Maybe if you quit putting yourself in near death situations involving sharp weapons, you wouldn't have that problem."

"What can I say? It's a gift."

He rolled his eyes, reaching over to pick up my hand in his. He inspected my fingers, tracing lines seen only to him on my palm.

"So what happened?" I inquired, clearing my throat. I let my head fall back down on the pillows, tilting it so that I could still monitor Fang's mostly expressionless face, watching for the tiny hints of emotion I -only- could detect in his dark eyes.

"You don't remember?" he asked quietly, concern ringing in an undertone throughout his words.

"I remember that son of a bitch Leroy confessing to being behind Jared, and Ian and Sarah's, murder. Then we fought, which I was mostly dominating in by the way, until his little dagger friend made an appearance. _Then _I was a goner. That's about it, though," I explained, clenching my teeth in anger at the thought. "How could I have been so stupid? I never even suspected a thing. He was never . . . he never showed any signs that he was . . ."

"Crazy?" Fang prodded. "Because he was, Max. _Literally_. He had psychological problems."

"He blamed me for the gym going to waste," I admitted.

"Because that's what he honestly thought. He wasn't capable of thinking through it rashly."

I turned to stare up at the ceiling, picking out patterns that weren't really there. Eventually I collected myself enough to return to the conversation, saying thoughtfully, "Jared must have figured it out. Leroy had been babbling on and on about how he was 'digging up the past' and that he 'took care of him' before he could tell me. God knows Jared wouldn't have let me around someone so unstable, which is exactly what Leroy dreaded."

"He thought you were going to hit the big time. He wanted to be a part of that," Fang added. It seemed he knew a lot about the situation. Even more than I did, and I was the one who was _there_.

"Were you the one who found me?" I asked, figuring this was the most obvious assumption.

"Yeah," he said gruffly, curling the hand around mine into a fist. "I was just walking in when I heard you scream. While you have a knack for getting knifed, I have a knack for good timing, or so it seems. I ran, got there just before he could _kill you,_ knocked him out then called the police. He came to when they were handcuffing him. Started going off about stuff. I didn't know what he was ranting about until later when I talked to the investigator."

"Are they going to want to talk to me?" I wrinkled my nose. I hated the authorities. Maybe it had something to do with living by my own rules for so long. I had a tough time conceding to 'the man's' will.

Fang smirked at my expression, smoothing a flyaway piece of hair back into place. "If you want to get Leroy locked up in jail, then yes."

I groaned.

"Dylan stopped by," Fang informed me suddenly, his emotionless mask fit snugly against his face. I didn't know whether not showing his animosity towards Dylan was more for my sake, or his.

"Really? Why?" I asked, though I could probably guess.

"Wanted to make sure you were okay . . . Say goodbye," he admitted.

My brow furrowed. "_Say goodbye_?"

"Yeah. Now that the mystery is all solved, and your life is no longer in immediate danger, there's nothing left for him to do here. He's probably headed back to New Jersey where his mom and dad are as we speak. I, for one, am not complaining."

"Oh come on. He wasn't acting that bad. Obviously his intentions were sincere," I chided him.

"The way he looked at you. I didn't like it," he muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly at the thought. I laughed at his expression, pushing his head slightly.

"Jealous fool," I teased, to which he quickly went on the defensive, denying ever having felt challenged in any way. Boys. Geesh.

After a beat of silence I asked about the others.

"The Arizona crew is awaiting your call, and Nudge and Iggy are wandering around here somewhere. Most likely where they're not supposed to be, I'm sure," Fang responded.

"So we're all alone. For the time being, at least?" I inquired innocently, biting my lip.

His smirk widened, riding the fine line between that and a smile. I could feel it fall over into the grin area as soon as my lips brushed against his. He stood, kicking the chair away. It toppled over onto its side, lying pitifully on the shiny, waxed floor. He positioned himself with one arm supporting his weight on the other side of my waist, hovering over me. His mouth was like satin on mine. Exactly the drug they needed to be giving at a hospital.

I kept expecting a doctor or nurse to barge in, but they seemed to steer clear of my room for once. Maybe my luck was changing after all.

I'm sure more people would love to see me six feet under, but for now I was flying high in the sky. No one was out to get me for the time being, and I would revel in that for as long as I could. Just until the next drama in my life came up. Which, trust me, there would be more. There was no doubt about that.

After all, I still had an Aunt turned Mother to get to know, as well as a cousin turned sister at that. I'm almost positive we hadn't heard the end from my twisted "father" Jeb as well. That was just icing on the cake. Maybe I'd even venture to get to know Ari a little more. The possibilities were endless, really.

And I would do all those things. Learning to fly, hypothetically speaking, had made me realize that paranoia and extreme caution were clouding not only the bad things in my life that could happen, but also the good. If I didn't learn to trust, if not others but my instincts, what was the point in all this? Taking chances was a part of life. Good outcomes couldn't come without a little risk in the process.

Maybe I'd get hurt. Maybe I wouldn't. Trying to look too far into the future instead of acting in the present was only going to lead to endless trouble, that was the one thing I was sure of.

"Fang?" I murmured, pushing his chest so that he'd stop kissing me and listen.

He hummed in response, pressing his lips to mine quickly before pulling back, letting me know I had his undivided attention.

"We _definitely _still need that rematch."

**Author's Note: Oh jeez. It's done. It's really done. It's complete.**

**So, SUPER DUPER GINORMOUS MUCHO BIG thanks to all that have reviewed, alerted and/or favorited this story. Especially those that did so for the last. ESPECIALLY especially those that have been along for the entire ride. You give me happy feelings :)**

**P.S. Favor time. Go back and find your absolute favorite chapter in this story and THE as well. Review it! You might have to do it anonymously, so just leave your regular pen name in place. Tell me why you liked it?**

**THANK YOU I LOVE YOU GOODBYE :)**


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